


Trust in Friendship

by Sealgirl



Series: Extended Series 3 [1]
Category: Dungeons and Dragons (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-06 09:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sealgirl/pseuds/Sealgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The kids have a new enemy, but that turns out to be the least of their problems after Eric rescues a magic Imp.<br/>Set after the episode "Dungeon at the Heart of Dawn".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first story in the Extended Series 3 by Sealgirl.
> 
> (A repost from fanfiction.net.)

High above the Realm in a towering, steel-grey castle, the Warlock stood alone, waiting in the top chamber in its tallest tower.

It was a dark room; the only illumination was from the window in the east wall that let cold sunlight pour in. Heavy, black velvet drapes covered the walls, mopping up any stray light, except for the north wall, which was just bare rock. In the very centre, beside a long, wooden altar, stood the Warlock. In the centre of the altar, nestled in its own special hollow in the wood, was a purple-coloured crystal that glinted as the man watched. The Warlock smiled as the magic light pulsated at its centre. How fortunate that he had found such a powerful weapon, before Dungeonmaster or Venger had given thought to what it could do.

The Dragon was freshly dead, the weapon of power still glowing with the magic of its birth. This was the Conduit of Transference, straight from the Dragon's Graveyard, capable of channelling any magic. And it was his; his chance was finally here! He had brooded for a long time before finally deciding how best to use it.

There was a quiet cough from the doorway and the Warlock turned, his long, sky blue robes swishing quietly over the stone floor.

A Minion entered. Not one of those incompetent Orcs that Venger used but a Dark Elf, tall and thin, clad in the classic green hunting garb. It bowed, bright eyes fixed on him, never blinking.

'The Dungeonmaster has found the portal, Master,' it said, 'He will be at the village soon.'

The Warlock nodded. 'And the diversion?'

'The Southern Lands are preparing for the eruption, Master. The mountain will not stand for long. Already the Dungeonmaster is unable to contain its power. He will have no time to trouble you.'

The Warlock nodded once more, and frowned as he asked:

'And the Imp?'

The Minion's eyes gleamed with a malicious pleasure.

'We have disposed of the Imp as you instructed Master. No one in the Realm would be foolish enough to free it.'

'Let it be known to all what punishment waits those who would wish to betray me.' The Warlock gave a wide smile that showed the points of his teeth. 'Now leave me to prepare,' he ordered.

The Minion bowed low once more and left.

Looking back to his Crystal, the Warlock returned to watching the magic in its centre pulsate, and his heart beat faster at the thought of so much power, just waiting for him to take. His patience would be rewarded soon. The balance would shift. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. All he needed was the Bow.

* * *

'Trust you to get us into this, Eric,' said Diana the Acrobat as she dipped the mop into the bucket. 'Couldn't you have been a bit more careful?'

'Yeah, you should have watched what you were doing, Er-ic,' agreed Bobby the Barbarian from a far corner of the basement, where he and the baby unicorn were pushing boxes. 'We all managed to get in ok.'

Eric the Cavalier scowled. The perfect retort formed in his mind but he didn't reply, mainly because the box he was lifting took all his breath and energy.

'C'mon guys,' said Sheila the Theif, 'Is this really so bad? I mean just yesterday we were complaining there was nothing to do.'

Eric let the box slip to the ground and said breathlessly:

'Heavy manual labour in the basement of a village Inn was not what I had in mind. Watching TV or eating pizza maybe, while we wait for his Royal Shortness to arrive.'

The conversation paused at the mention of the Dungeonmaster, and Eric mumbled something despondently under his breath. OK, so their current workload was his fault, and they might be entitled to a little griping. But so what? Besides, if Dungeonmaster hadn't been late, they wouldn't have been here to get into trouble in the first place.

He looked at his friends as he rested against the box he had been carrying, all hard at work sweeping and mopping and lifting, casting annoyed looks in his direction every so often. He had scowled back the first few times, but now he just ignored the glances. Even Presto the Magician was sulking at him.

Eric gave a short sigh. Since the trip to the Underworld of the Realm, nothing was going right for him. They called it bad luck, but it wasn't that. He sighed once again, but couldn't suppress a shiver of fear. Yes, he knew what it was.

It was that stupid Box. His curiosity had almost killed them all, and the rest of the Realm with them. The Box of Balefire had summoned Venger's Master, a creature with No Name; a force so powerful and evil that even Dungeonmaster had not been able to stop it. he should never have…

There was a sudden, loud crashing noise from the stairwell, disrupting his train of thought. Presto and Sheila had dropped the box they were carrying near the top of the stairs, and it tumbled awkwardly back down and was going to knock a whole row of boxes over and spill their contents all over the mostly clean floor.

Hank the Ranger was there in a second, leaping over the piles of rubbish and just managing to stop the runaway box in time. The others cheered.

'Wow, great catch Hank!' said Diana approvingly. 'We would have been back to square one if those boxes had gone.'

'Euw, more slime and rubbish,' said Presto with a shudder.

Eric frowned more deeply, caught between gratitude and... what? Jealousy? It was hard not to be envious of the Ranger, such a natural leader; confident, good-looking, intelligent. If he, Eric the Cavalier, had betrayed the Cloud Bears to Venger, would the others have forgiven him as easily as they had forgiven Hank? That thought did nothing to help his mood.

The baby unicorn scampered happily up to the Ranger, giving him a bray of congratulations and Eric's scowl faded. It was easy to blame Hank for being perfect, for being the one everyone looked up to, but that wasn't the problem. He just wanted to go home. How often now had he wished he'd never seen that amusement park, or that he had decided not to go on that stupid ride? How often had he wished things had been different?

A new voice broke the silence.

'Greetings, my pupils.'

'Dungeonmaster!' said Bobby in surprise.

'Finally,' muttered Eric. 'He arrives!'

'I must apologises for my lateness,' said the old man. 'There are many things in this Realm that need my attention. I trust your stay in Vinril has been pleasant.' He gave Eric a keen look and added, 'I am glad you have found a way to keep busy.'

Diana gave a huff.

'Eric's so good at that.'

Eric glared at her, but didn't reply.

The Dungeonmaster looked between them and asked:

'Is there something wrong, my children?'

'The only thing that's wrong, Your Shortness, is that we're stuck here and not back home!' snapped Eric.

The Dungeonmaster smiled in acknowledgement and looked to Hank.

'I come with news of a portal.'

'Yeah, yeah, yeah. Like all the other portals, I suppose,' said Eric, bending down to glare at their guide. 'Guarded by dragons or Orcs or Vengers or…'

'No,' interrupted Dungeonmaster. 'It is just a portal. It is on a little-used road that may be difficult to follow, but you should be able to reach it before it closes.'

The others looked round at each other in surprise, as Bobby cheered. Eric scowled at the miniature humanoid in front of him.

'Bu-ut…?' prompted Eric.

Dungeonmaster had the grace to look guilty.

'You are correct, Cavalier. There is a "but".'

'I knew it! You never get anything easily in this place.'

'You never get anything easily, anywhere, Cavalier,' said Dungeonmaster, his tone sad. 'That is life.'

Eric snorted as Sheila asked:

'What is the problem, Dungeonmaster?'

'I do not know.'

'Don't you know everything, Dungeonmaster?' said Bobby.

'Yeah, eeeveeeing,' mimicked the unicorn by Bobby's side.

The Dungeonmaster smiled and reached over to stroke Uni's mane.

'I do not know exactly where the portal has been opened, or what its purpose is, just that it is there and unguarded. I caution you to be wary.'

'But it is a way home?' asked Diana.

The Dungeonmaster nodded, but in such a sombre way that Eric shivered. Their guide not knowing what was going on wasn't a good sign.

'Tell us what you know, Dungeonmaster,' said Hank.

'Perhaps a day's journey, due south of this town is the Lightning Forest, and somewhere within its boundaries is the Circle of Stones. The portal is there.'

The little man started to pace around.

'Tomorrow morning you must go. Find the portal, if you can, and go home.'

'What, no riddles?' asked Eric sarcastically.

'I have no other help for you, my pupils. I am sorry. But be careful. Trust in friendship and in yourselves. That is the only advice I can give.'

Distracted for a second, the kids glanced at each other and by the time they looked back, their guide had gone.

'He's gone!' said Hank, looking round.

'What a surprise,' said Eric. 'Just drops by to dangle another way home in front of our noses, but can't stick around to give us a hand.'

'There are other people in this Realm too, Eric,' scolded Diana. 'He's told us of a way home, what more do we need?'

The Magician looked around the dark basement and said:

'How about an industrial-sized vacuum cleaner?'

'Couldn't you try again with your Hat?' asked Bobby eagerly.

Presto looked to the ground, blushing, and didn't reply.

'We had better keep clearing,' said Sheila with a sigh.

* * *

The next morning was clear and crisp. The four suns were still low in the skies when the kids were ready to leave the village. They were gathered outside the Inn at the edge of the village, refreshed and reprovisioned. Hank looked around the group for the tenth time. There was no need for a head count, as the lack of whining noises told him that Eric still hadn't appeared. For someone who claimed to be desperate to go home, the Cavalier was really dragging his feet.

Presto must have noticed the look Hank cast in the direction of their rooms as he asked:

'You want me and the Hat to give him a wake-up call?'

The Ranger couldn't stop a small smile. The Hat's wake-up calls were usually very funny, and he was sorely tempted to let Presto loose to do his worst, or was that best? But good sense prevailed, in spite of the imploring look Bobby was giving him.

'No. He won't be too long.'

'I'm getting sick of this, Hank,' said Diana, not usually the one who voiced her complaints against the Cavalier behind his back. 'Can't you do something about him?'

Hank shrugged. The Cavalier's attitude was starting to cause serious problems. He was getting pretty sick of Eric too; sick of the constant griping, the erratic mood swings, the petty sarcasm, and above all, the nagging feeling that something was seriously wrong with their Cavalier.

'Trust Eric to miss the packing again,' said Bobby loudly. 'Do we have to wait for him? Can't we just go and he can catch us up?'

Exactly on cue, there was a muffled scuffling noise from the main door of the Inn, and their Cavalier appeared, looking paler than usual, with definite violet tinges under his eyes. His usual confident swagger was gone too.

'What happened to you?' asked Sheila as he approached. 'Didn't you sleep?'

Eric scowled at her.

'Hank's snoring is enough to give anyone within a mile radius sleep deprivation,' he said, shifting his Shield awkwardly to his left arm.

Presto smirked half-heartedly but Hank just ignored the insult. He had been given the room next to Eric's, and every night of their stay, without fail, he had heard the Cavalier moving around until late into the night. More often than not, Eric would call out fearfully in his sleep too, and last night had been no exception. The only time he had broached the subject, Eric given a brusque denial of any problem. So very like their Cavalier to be closed-mouthed about the important things.

Hank turned to the sudden sound of footsteps behind him. The Chief of Vinril was approaching.

'Good morning,' called Chief Kalesh. 'I have come to wish you safe travel on your journey south.' Hank stepped forward to shake the Chief's outstretched hand.

'Thank you,' he replied, ignoring the almost inaudible grumble from Eric. 'And for our new supplies.'

He turned back to the others and said:

'Let's go.'

'Good luck with your quest, young ones,' said the Chief, 'And be careful in the Southlands. Not everything you might meet out there is friendly.'

'Story of my life,' muttered Eric.

Hank watched them pass; the Cavalier first, Diana and Presto behind, Sheila, then Bobby and his unicorn. Sheila paused by the gate as Hank caught up and walked beside him on the way out of the village and down towards the valley.

They walked all morning with Eric in the lead, but he didn't say much, not even to tease Presto when he tripped up or to gripe at the noisy unicorn who gambolled around getting in everyone's way. No one was bothered by the Cavalier's resolute silence, and Hank had to admit the quiet was a welcome change.

They walked through a rich green valley that was covered in tiny pink flowers and tall, wide-topped fungi that smelled of warm plastic and reminded him of chemistry class. Presto and Diana were talking about home, the people they missed, and the things they wanted to do. Bobby mooched along, obviously keen on getting home, but the long, sad glances in Uni's direction hinted and the mix of emotions that the young Barbarian was feeling.

Sheila walked quietly beside the Ranger, comfortable with the silence. He looked at her and smiled. What would he do without her? They called him the leader, but Sheila kept them all together as a group far more than he did. If it wasn't for Eric and his moods, life would be perfect, even in this strange land so far from home.

He glanced to the Cavalier, a good distance ahead, and wondered what was up with him this time. In the weeks since their run in with the big, bad No Name and their escape from the Underworld, Eric had been prone to major swings in mood. He was the one member of the group that was in constant flux. He could be callous, arrogant and deeply annoying, but there was a compassionate streak in him that could never be properly hidden, no matter how hard the Cavalier tried. But these days all he seemed to do was sulk or argue. Something had to be done.

Sheila noticed his glance.

'He's behaving oddly, even for a Cavalier,' she observed with a rueful smile. 'But the silence today makes a nice change.'

Hank smiled too. 'But something's wrong, and he won't talk to me.'

Sheila nodded, her red hair glittering in the sunshine.

'Should I try?' she asked.

Hank didn't reply immediately, but pursed his lips. Eric's mood could lift within a few hours, and he might be easier to talk to if he wasn't sulking.

'Wait for a while, see what he's like later.'

But as the day drew on, and the mushrooms grew taller and wider, no one got any happier. Heavy, dark clouds drifted in from the horizon and as soon as they found a good mushroom to shelter under for lunch, the rain started. By the time they had stopped eating the nuts and berries along with fresh bread from the village, the rain was coming down thick and hard, and they would have been soaked the instant they stepped out from the protection of the mushroom.

So they waited while Presto tried to get something waterproof out of his Hat. Eric seemed a little better, and only offered the Magician his constructive criticism twice. But after an hour of trying, and having exhausted all the rhymes for 'dry' he could think of, all they had were three umbrellas of varying colours (no bat umbrellas this time), two raincoats (one only big enough for Bobby) and a pair of giant galoshes that looked more like big, black clown shoes, as well as the usual pile of unusable junk that the Hat delighted in producing for its master.

That turned out to be the simple part of the morning. Dividing the spoils took another half hour of wrangling and diplomacy until everyone was ready to leave with at least some parts protected from the ferocious rain. By now, the Cavalier sulking even more as he sloped off under his Shield, having refused to wear the giant galoshes.

Hank sighed. It was going to be a very long day.

* * *

Eric gave a long, painful yawn, aware of the squelching footsteps behind him. The rain had virtually stopped, and the need for the extra protection had passed. The others had removed their waterproofs and he had lowered the Shield from over his head. The rain had trickled over it, down to his hand and arm, and he could feel cold water seeping through his mail shirt.

'I'm probably going to rust,' he said to himself, and yawned again, making his eyes water. 'I hate this stupid place.'

He walked past sodden mushroom after sodden mushroom in a haze, wishing that he had slept better. What he wouldn't give for a lovely, long, uninterrupted sleep and peaceful dreams. It didn't even have to be in a bed, just a good rest would be perfect. Even the Realm could be pleasant after a good sleep. What he wouldn't give for that wonderful four-poster bed in his Father's mansion.

'What are you thinking about to make you smile like that?' asked a voice beside him, making him jump.

'Oh! Hi Sheila,' he said.

The Thief looked up at him expectantly. He had to reply.

'Well, home. Y'know... TV, popcorn and burgers.'

He looked at her lovely green eyes, and red hair that seemed to glow even in the rain, and glanced back to Hank, who was watching them from afar. They might try to hide it, but those two were almost inseparable. And, judging by the expression on his face, Hank had put her up to this.

'What's wrong, Eric?' She said it so gently, that he couldn't bring himself to snap back at her, but he didn't reply. There was a long silence before she spoke again. 'Is it something about No Name?'

He looked at her in surprise. _She'd guessed! How?_

Sheila gave him a sad smile, and said:

'I know you feel really bad about opening the box in the first place. But no one blames you Eric.'

He shrugged, secretly relieved. She had no idea.

'That is what's bothering you? Isn't it?'

What could he say? He couldn't bring himself to tell anyone the truth, least of all her, the one they all depended on to have hope and strength for the future. How could he explain anyway? How could he explain the fear? How could he share the knowledge that he was trapped here forever, that he was stuck in this Realm of the rest of his life, no matter what he did? She would just tell him to keep his hopes up, that they _would_ get home, all of them.

But she was wrong.

Venger's Master knows: And No-Name showed him. He didn't know why he did it, he couldn't stop himself in spite of the Dungeonmaster's warning. A memory came back of that day.

_He sat next to Dungeonmaster, in full view of the oncoming storm, that towering pillar of fire that had followed them relentlessly over the Realm, destroying everything it passed._

_'Listen carefully my children,' said Dungeonmaster, having to shout to make himself heard. ' The instant before he strikes he will reveal his face. No matter what happens,_ you must not look at it _.'_

_Eric hadn't closed his eyes like the rest of them. For some reason he kept watching the fire approach. He heard Presto ask:_

_'What's that thing waiting for?'_

_Before he could stop himself, the retort had slipped out._

_'Yeah, what is he, chicken?' He realised what he had said. They were facing possibly the final few moments of their lives, and what did he do? Quip! 'Sorry just kidding, just…'_

_The tower of flame and lightning shuddered to a halt and, instead of his eyes closing as his brain had wanted them to, Eric glanced up to look into those deep yellow eyes just for a second, just for the tiniest part of a second._

_That was all it took._

Dungeonmaster had warned them, but he couldn't help it. It was a compulsion he couldn't resist, even though he had tried. Time stopped and the thoughts of Venger's evil Master filled his mind in agonising detail, pain, fear, loss and death. He shivered at the memory of that terrible voice:

_\- You caused this to happen. You alone summoned me here. Your friends are cursed to remain in this Realm as long as you stay with them. They don't need you. You hold them back. Together you will never get home. Eventually, they will leave you here, trapped forever. It is their only way home. –_

_-YOU ARE MINE._ –

Sheila wouldn't understand. It would be easier to let her think something else, anything else, was the problem. He gave a half-hearted smile, but before he could speak, there was a sudden shout from behind. They both turned.

Four huge, black spiders, each ridden by a thin, Dark Elf, were charging at the others. The Elves were armed with slingshots and the spiders spat thick, sticky web in all directions. Web had already pinned Uni to the ground, and she was whinnying plaintively.

The lead Elf looked at the Cavalier and the Thief and urged his spider towards them, rising in the saddle to get a clear shot.

Before Sheila could reach her Cloak, or Eric had even thought about beginning to react, the approaching spider aimed web straight at the Thief, catching her arm and pinning her to a nearby mushroom. The Elf howled in triumph, and aimed his slingshot. Eric stood stupidly, just watching, when a bolt of golden light suddenly knocked the Elf forward. Another bolt flew past, melting the web around Sheila.

The ground shook as Bobby sent a wave of earth towards the Elf that threatened his sister and both spider and rider were knocked off-balance. Sheila took only a few seconds to recover, before running forward to help the terrified unicorn.

Eric blinked slowly, unable to understand what was wrong. Everything was moving except him. It was too fast to be real. Hank was firing arrows at the spiders while Bobby was sending mushrooms flying with his Club. Diana had knocked one of the Elf riders off his mount and was chasing the spider, probably with the intention of riding it herself.

The Cavalier glanced to Presto, crouching on the ground under a mushroom, waving his fingers over the Hat.

'Don't worry about those riders, we need something to get rid of the spiders!'

So intently was Presto working on his spell that he didn't seem notice another rider heading directly for him. The Hat didn't even twitch, and the Elf was within striking distance of the Magician, slingshot at the ready.

Eric sprinted forward, holding his Shield up as the Elf fired, then dived forward through the mud, desperately hoping that he was close enough. He slid past a surprised-looking Presto in a shower of dank water, and heard the dull clunk as the shot bounced off his Shield.

With a smile he turned to Presto, expecting congratulations, but the Magician was struggling with his Hat, which was suddenly bulging along the seams. His hands were shaking from the effort.

There was a loud ripping sound and two giant sparrows, each at least the size of an elephant, exploded from the Hat and soared into the air towards the spiders. Hank fired at the Elves, as their panicking steeds bolted for cover, trying to avoid the birds as well as the mushrooms Bobby was hitting at them. It only took a minute before they had been driven off completely. The sparrows circled round once, then flew off, still following the spiders.

'Say, those guys weren't friendly,' said Eric casually, as the group gathered round Presto. The Cavalier stood up slowly, muddy water dripping off him. 'What did you think of that slide. Kinda cool, huh?' He looked to Diana, then Hank, but saw only frowns of disapproval.

'What'd I say?' he said.

Hank stood beside Sheila, holding her protectively round the shoulders, and glared at him.

'What were you thinking of, Eric?' he demanded. 'Why didn't you help her?'

'Well, I, sorta did, in a way. I mean, I helped Presto.'

'Eventually,' put in the Acrobat, 'We all saw you standing there, watching with your mouth open like you were at the Superbowl. Thank goodness for Hank!'

Eric gave a surly humph.

'Yeah, well, I had everything under control until Mr Golden-Arrows over there showed up. She was in no danger.'

'That's easy for you to say, you weren't the one under attack.'

'Hey, I saved Presto!'

Presto opened his mouth to say something, but Hank interrupted.

'There should have been no need for that, if you had been watching out. You have a job to do. Everyone has problems, Eric, but we still pull our weight, and look out for our friends. You should have been paying attention. I can't do everything.'

'Ok, I made a mistake. Sor-ry for being human.' He looked away, unable to meet Hanks gaze.

'But we are all ok,' said Sheila, 'There's no damage done. Let's go before they come back.'

But Hank didn't give up. He was still glaring at the Cavalier.

'What's got into you recently?' demanded the Ranger.

'I'm fine.'

'We all want to get home, but we have to stick together.'

Eric flinched as if Hank had struck him. All he could hear were the words Venger's Master had spoken. – _They don't need you. Eventually, they will leave you here, trapped forever. It is their only way home._ -

Hank must have realised he'd said something wrong, but before he could speak again Eric cut in.

'I would do just fine without you. I could get home without your help.'

Bobby gave a snort, followed a second later another from Uni.

'You wouldn't last five minutes on your own,' he said.

It was too much to ignore. He wasn't going to take this, not today.

'Fine,' he snapped at the Barbarian. 'Maybe I'll see you later, if you can keep up.'

He turned, and stomped off, not looking behind him and hoping they hadn't heard the shake in his voice.

Under the circumstances, he should have been more a lot more careful. It was just a silly mistake, a little error that anyone could have made: left fork, not right fork. When the others did eventually catch up with him four hours later, still lost in the in the mushroom forest, the Cavalier was arguing with a pale green Imp that was locked in the centre of a crystal.

The Imp saw them first. It broke off what it was saying, let out an ear splitting " _eeep_ ", and started to jump up and down.

Eric looked round, feeling a mixture of surprise, relief and annoyance. They had taken long enough.

'Hey, Eric, there you are at last!' called Diana. 'What have you found?'

The Cavalier gave a scowl. He just knew the Imp was going to be trouble with the others around as an audience. The Imp fluttered its wings pathetically, unable to stretch them out in the cramped interior of the crystal. It was small, about the same height as Uni, with iridescent double-wings and thick, velvety, green fur.

'Oh brother,' muttered the Cavalier. 'This is all I need.'

'It's lovely,' said Sheila, running up to the crystal. 'What is it? Who are you?' The Imp waved frantically at her, gesturing at the crystal. 'It's trapped, poor thing. Do you think we can get it out?.'

'No!' snapped Eric. 'You weren't here earlier. It wasn't like this.' He did a short impression of the Imp, dancing around with a sickly sweet expression on his face, hands fluttering at his shoulders. 'It's dangerous.' He turned to Sheila. 'You shouldn't encourage it.'

Bobby stepped forward, swinging his club.

'I can take care of this,' he said proudly. And before Eric could stop him, the Barbarian hit the crystal low on the left side, shattering it in a cloud of glittering lights.

The Imp soared up into the air, emitting a cascade of eeeps in joyful celebration of its freedom. They all watched it flutter around, before it finally settled on the ground close to Sheila and Bobby.

Eric gave it a surly frown, his heart sinking.

'Ok, so you're free. Now go away!' he snapped. The Imp ignored him.

There was a disgruntled bleah from the little unicorn, and she sidled up to Bobby protectively.

'Don't be jealous, Uni. He's just an Imp. He's ok.'

But the unicorn still looked at the Imp suspiciously. Eric gave a slight smile. It had been a long time since he and Uni had agreed on anything.

'I told you not to free it,' he said, 'It'll only cause trouble.'

It hissed at him, and scampered off to hide behind Hank's legs for protection. The others gathered round and it rubbed affectionately into Diana's hand as she bent down to pet it.

Eric looked on, with a faint sneer and said:

'Oh, please. That's just embarrassing.'

'I didn't see you trying to help it,' said Diana loudly.

'Quit bugging me about it,' said Eric. 'And what are you doing here anyway?'

'We came to find you. You missed the sign. You're headed back to the village.'

Inside, Eric cringed. _Back to the village? How? He had been so careful._

'And now we are late,' added Hank. 'The suns will be down soon, we'll have to camp out tonight.'

Eric was about to snap back, something about not needing help and why didn;t they just leave him alone, when he saw the Imp smirk at him, its eyes glinting.

'Master found me,' it squeaked. 'Master brought his friends to free me. One Wish is yours, as thanks for my freedom.'

The others looked at Eric expectantly, sudden hope kindled in their hearts. But Eric wasn't really listening.

'Yeah, yeah, yeah,' he drawled sarcastically, 'I wish things had been different, but...'

He didn't get a chance to finish. There was a high-pitched giggle from the Imp and it clapped its hands once before disappearing in a thick cloud of purple smoke. The smoke didn't dissipate, but engulfed them all, and Eric heard muffled coughs close by. He couldn't even see his hand in front of his face.

Suddenly, there was a wet gurgling, like a semi-blocked plughole drawing down water, and the smoke vanished. Eric looked around.

The scenery was the same, they were in the same positions as before but something was very different.

The person that caught his attention first was Hank with his Viking helmet and furry shorts that showed off his muscular legs. In his left hand he held the Barbarian's Club. Bobby was Barbarian no longer. Dressed from head to foot in flowing green robes with the Magician's Hat flopping into his eyes, he looked ridiculous. But not as ridiculous as Presto, resplendent in his new and entirely unflattering Acrobat attire, complete with golden armbands and collar, and fluffy brown swimming trunks that made him look even paler and gawkier than usual.  
  
Eric glanced to Diana, with her new lilac dress, long boots and Thief's Cloak. Sheila stepped forward, looking around at the others, stunned too. Eric glared at her. She was holding his Shield, _HIS Shield_ , and wearing the close-fitting uniform of a Cavalier.

He looked down to the weapon in his hand, the heavy Bow that was carried by the Ranger. He had no chainmail, no red cloak, no Shield.

He stared at the Bow for a number of seconds then looked up, a sarcastic comment already forming. But he didn't speak. No one had said anything as they looked at each other, but they were all looking at him identical expressions of disappointment and fury on their faces.

'This is your fault, Eric.'


	2. Chapter 2

The Warlock paced, round and round the wooden altar, waiting, ignoring the deep auburnsunset visible through the single window of his tower room. Though outwardly he might have appeared calm, inside his emotions were in turmoil. Within hours, minutes maybe, all that Power would be his.

All the tools he needed for the forthcoming ritual were ready: the goblet, the knife and, of course, the Conduit Crystal from the Dragon's Graveyard. The Crystal was nestled comfortably in its plinth on the altar, and he looked into its centre, dreaming of the power that was to come, a fusion of life and power so intense that it would sweep the old order away. And he would make it happen, no matter what the cost.

He waited.

Eventually, a Minion entered; a tall Dark Elf, dressed in midnight black robes. It bowed, eyes lowered.

'What news?' asked the Warlock.

'Our first attack failed, Master. The children are still in the Fungi Forest.' The Elf hesitated before continuing. 'And they have seen Zilzad. The Imp is free, Master. The prison was destroyed and…'

'Enough!' shouted the Warlock, his anger slipping out accidentally. The Minion bowed lower and started to shuffle backwards, unwilling to bear the brunt of its Master's wrath.

'So,' hissed the Warlock, 'They thought the Imp would help? It is free once more.'

He stopped, and took a slow, deep breath then turned to glare at the retreating Minion.

'Find that Imp,' he hissed between clenched teeth. 'And bring me the Ranger.'

* * *

The kids stood around the remains of the shattered crystal, all glaring at Eric, their new Ranger.

'This is your fault Eric,' said Hank, swinging his Club over his shoulder.

Eric glared at Hank, their new Barbarian. That helmet didn't suit him.

'Me? I didn't free the Imp, did I?' he snapped angrily. It wasn't his fault this time. They weren't going to pin this on him. 'I told you not break it, but did you listen? Oh no, you know best. No one ever listens to me.'

He turned to glare at Bobby, who standing next to the shattered crystal, dressed in the voluminous green robes of the Magician. The young boy pulled the Hat off.

'I was only trying to help,' he said angrily. 'You should have _wished_ differently. We could have gone home!'

There was a general murmur of approval from the others. Home had been a wish away, just five words – 'I wish we were home.' Eric felt sick, the same feeling he'd had looking into every portal home, just as it closed. His big mouth had done it again. Why hadn't he been paying attention? They could have been home, they should be home, right now. That was obviously what the others were thinking, judging by the unfriendly expressions that surrounded him.

'How was I supposed to know this would happen?' he muttered.

'You should have kept your big mouth shut until your brain connected to it,' said Diana, tugging at her uncomfortable new clothes.

Eric stared at her, not in anger, but because she looked so strange in real clothes, even if they were lilac.

'But it's the Imp's fault,' insisted Eric. 'It changed us and our weapons round. Don't blame me if it didn't understand what I meant.' He turned to point at Hank, feeling the need to shift the attention away from his mistake. 'Bobby should never have been let near that crystal with his dumb Club. Some leader you are, _Mr Barbarian._ You're just jealous I've got your Bow. I'm the fearless hero now!'

Hank flushed but didn't reply as Uni gave a frightened whine and nuzzled up to Bobby, in spite of the thick robes. Eric looked down at the weapon, suddenly worried. The Bow was heavy in his hand, but it felt like it belonged there, as the Shield had done just moments before. It was his. The magic power inside it was his too. He was the Ranger of the Realm. The fearless hero... _Fearless hero? Him? That couldn't be right._

'But what are we going to do?' asked Presto, who was standing, hunched up and looking cold. 'We can't walk around like this. We have to get ourselves back to normal. I'm going to be a terrible Acrobat, I hate gym class.'

They looked at each other.

'Oh brother,' said Bobby, looking down into the Hat. 'If Presto can't get this Hat to work properly, what chance do I have?'

'Perhaps Dungeonmaster can help?' suggested Diana.

'Are you nuts?' said Eric, waving his Bow at her, 'When has that little squirt been around to help us when we really needed it?'

'But he gave us our weapons, surely he would be able to change us back?'

'I doubt it, even it he wasn't so busy,' said Hank sadly. 'We can't swap back, so we'll just have to make the best of what we have.'

'I'm just glad Venger isn't here to see this,' said Presto, 'He would have us disarmed in seconds.'

'Don't say that,' said Hank, with a reassuring smile. 'C'mon guys, all we need to do is get to that portal and get home the old-fashioned way. It doesn't matter if we are wielding the wrong weapons.'

'As long as we don't meet any opposition,' said Eric loudly.

'As long as we think before opening our big, fat mouths,' said Bobby, just as loudly.

'Why don't you shut up, fungus-brain.'

'Who you callin' fungus-brain? You're the one who got lost in a forest of mushrooms.'

'Well…' started Eric, but Bobby was on a roll.

'And you're the one who went charging off on his own. We had to come and find you before you fell of a cliff, or walked into a dragon or something.'

'I was doing just fine, before you and your Club came along and spoiled everything. I didn't ask for your help.'

'Well, that's the last time we come and help you. Some thanks for coming to find you, you didn't even wish us home!'

Bobby turned and stormed off towards one of the mushrooms close by.

There was a resentful silence, then Sheila the new Cavalier said:

'We'll have to set up camp soon. And have some food.'

Her suggestion was immediately backed up by Hank and one by one the others moved off to join Bobby in the shelter of the mushrooms. They started to unpack their provisions, leaving Eric alone by the crystal's remains.

He stood there for a long time. The others had every right to be angry with him. What a stupid thing to go and say. Venger's Master had been right. They were never going to get home with him around. He had put his foot in it once to often. Not only had he blown their first easy chance of getting home in ages, they were all the mixed up with the wrong weapons. If they didn't get back to their own world soon, or reverse the wish, they were done for.

The initial rush of pride was gone. Yes, he had the Bow and he was the new Ranger. But the doubts had started. Hank was always the one who was there, always ready and alert to the dangers of the Realm.

Eric shivered. Now it was his responsibility to be the fearless hero, and he wasn't cut out for that. He looked down at the weapon once more. It was so useful, so versatile. How was he ever going to understand it and control it, let alone help the others with it?

He walked over to the mushrooms and sat in a broody silence, waving Presto and the food he was offering away. The girls were sitting off to the side, talking quietly, and fidgeting with their new weapons. Eric could hardly imagine a less likely Thief or Cavalier. Sheila was so used to hiding under her Cloak, now she had to run around shielding the others from danger. And Diana? Well, she had never hidden from a fight in her life. What used was the Thief's Cloak to a girl like that?

Hank started hitting the small stones Presto was throwing for him, obviously trying to improve his aim, while Bobby was muttering to the Hat, pulling out all sorts of useless junk, like bits of wood and broken electrical items. It also seemed intent on producing empty beer cans for him. He had accumulated quite a mound by the time dinner was finished. Uni lay close to Bobby, her head slumped on her front hoofs, watching the pile of rubbish grow larger.

The night darkened, and soon there was only the bright moonlight to see by. The others had all been practicing with their new weapons. Hank had progressed to hitting the beer cans at Sheila's shield and Diana was helping Presto with the Javelin. Only Eric hadn't done any practice. He sat off to the side, legs crossed, looking at the Bow.

'Hey Ranger! Ol' Cavalier! Eric!' called Diana suddenly. 'You gonna show us what you can do?'

Eric shook his head. He could never practice in front of the others, they would laugh.

'I don't need to practice with this,' he replied, hoping that was the end of the matter.

'But Eric…' started Hank uneasily.

'Do you think I can't cope with one little Bow?' snapped Eric. 'It can't be that hard, you got it easily enough.'

'We all need practice,' put in Diana.

'Why don't you all just GET LOST! I don't have to put up with this.'

Diana gave him a hurt look. 'Don't jump down my throat. Gee, Eric, what's gotten in to you?'

Eric's mind was suddenly filled with No-Name's words. - _Your friends are doomed to remain in this Realm as long as you stay with them. Eventually, they will leave you here, trapped forever. It is their only way home._

He knew he'd turned pale, remembering the sound of that awful voice. The others were watching him. He frowned, still unable to tell them what was wrong.

'I'm tired of having to put up with you all. I don't need your help,' he said, standing up unsteadily. 'I said I'm fine, so let's go to sleep. I'll take first watch.'

'He's right,' agreed Hank suddenly. 'We have a long walk tomorrow. Let's get some sleep.' He gave Eric a cold look. 'Wake Diana when the moons set.'

One by one, the kids settled down, until Eric was left alone again, listening to the soft breaths of his comrades. This had to been the worst day of his life, even counting the day they were transported here. They had missed another chance to get home, and he had almost blurted it all out everything. Would he have told them what _He_ had said, if Hank hadn't stepped in? They would blame him, they would know he was the source of all their problems. What was he going to do?

He looked at the Bow, filled with a growing sense of dread. This new weapon was no comfort. What was he going to do if he couldn't use it? The others would kill themselves laughing. The I-told-you-sos would be unbearable. What was he going to do? It was only one little Bow, he wasn't really afraid of that. Was he?

The hours slipped past, and the new Ranger was still too overwhelmed by doubt to try out his new weapon.

Finally, the moons dipped below the hills, and he stirred from his dark thoughts and yawned. It was time to wake Diana. Perhaps after a sleep he would feel better, and tonight not even the nightmares would keep him awake.

As he stood, there was a sudden creak from beside the crystal.

Eric turned and peered, but there was no movement. He was almost going to look away, when there was another creak and a quick flash of pale green.

'Bet it's the Imp,' muttered Eric, 'I'll teach it to mess with me!'

He gripped the Bow firmly and stalked off.

* * *

Hank was barely awake. His eyes were still closed and he was enjoying the final few seconds of rest before facing another day. His eagerness to get up and get on with their journey was tempered with the knowledge that he was without his Bow.

He was still their leader, true. The Bow itself wasn't the symbol of his leadership, but the Club was so restricting. All he could do was hit things, and how could he help the others doing that? That was the big problem. That and the fact that Eric, the least competent of his friends, was the Bow's new wielder. It was a temperamental weapon and needed a strong will to control it, something Eric didn't have. Hank realised with a jolt that he just didn't trust Eric to use the Bow well when he was needed.

Hank thought back to the pervious day. It was one long catalogue of temper tantrums from Eric. The ol' Cavalier had taken being unpopular into a whole new realm. He'd been unbelievably callous and ungrateful, even by his own standards. All that the others had got for their trouble was more insults and the usual I-am-fine-on-my-own comments. It was almost as if their Cavalier was deliberately trying to drive his friends away. Something would have to be done. The thought of another day of petty arguments, sarcasm and whinging was too depressing. For the first time in a long while, Hank secretly wished Eric had never come to the Realm with them. Thank goodness they were almost at the portal.

The thought of going home brought Hank fully awake.

He opened his eyes, and had pulled himself to a sitting position before noticing the hulking form of a Stone Dragon looming high above the mushroom forest. At least as tall as a house, it was thin and grey, with huge violet coloured wings and a long, whiplash tail that flicked restlessly from side to side. Its front paw was raised to swipe at his sleeping friends.

'NO!' he bellowed as he leaped up, grabbing his Club and swinging it as hard as he could at the ground. The ground surged forwards, and a wave of mushroom-covered land radiated out. The Dragon looked down at him as it staggered backwards, but it didn't fall.

The others were stirring, looking round at him. He pointed.

The Dragon gave a low roar as it swung back round to face them, but at least they were all standing this time. It lumbered forwards, knocking mushrooms as it went.

'Scatter!' Hank shouted.

Hank looked for Eric, but the fungi blocked his view. What would he give for a few well-placed arrows at the moment! He struck the ground again, feeling the Club vibrate in his hands, but the Dragon still managed to hold its ground and keep moving. Its long, sinuous tail whipped round towards him. Sheila just reached him in time, her Shield held high. The tail bounced off harmlessly.

The next few minutes were the most frightening of all their fights in the Realm, even the ones against Venger.

The others had split up, trying to keep the Dragon on the move. No one managed to use their new weapons the way they wanted to. Diana was having problems with her new Cloak. She still had her natural agility, but is was obvious she felt restricted without her Javelin. Presto kept slipping over, the Javelin always the wrong length, and Bobby was producing more beer cans from the Hat, full this time. The fizz they produced when the Dragon stepped on them only frightened it a few times.

From the look in her eyes, Hank could see that Sheila was terrified having to run out and protect the others from that long tail. She had already hesitated two times.

They fought on, not making any headway with the hungry Dragon, their new weapons still not co-operating.

Then suddenly Diana appeared right beside the Dragon's front paws.

'Hey, stone-breath!' she shouted. 'Bet you can't get me!'

She disappeared seconds before the left paw swiped at her, reappearing on the other side to taunt the Dragon again. It turned, knocking a thick-stemmed mushroom with its tail. The mushroom toppled forward, right on top of Bobby, who was crouched on the ground talking to his Hat with his unicorn beside him.

Presto was too far away to reach him in time, but he threw the Javelin and it stuck the ground beside Bobby, stopping the mushroom's fall long enough for the boy and the unicorn to scramble to safety. The new Magician looked round gratefully.

Hank looked down at the Club. It was up to him, this had to end.

The Dragon charged again, and once more the kids just managed to dodge the flying fungi and the swiping claws. Hank swung at the ground again, concentrating all his thoughts and strength on the act, as he did when he used the Bow. This time the shock waves were all concentrated in the Dragon's direction and it was unable to keep its balance. It staggered, and wavered, and finally toppled over, hitting the ground with a tremendous crunch.

It didn't move.

The others came running up, bruised, bedraggled and exhausted. Hank could barely control his anger. That had been too close. He glared at Diana.

'How did a thing that size manage to creep up on us?' he demanded.

The girl looked vaguely surprised.

'I wasn't on watch,' she said. There was a pause before she added, 'No-one woke me.'

That was the last straw. It was one thing to be surly and ungrateful, but quite another to put them all in danger.

'So you were the one asleep on duty?' he asked Eric angrily. 'Eric?'

They looked round, from one to another, then searched around the decimated clearing, but there was no sign of the new Ranger at all. He had disappeared.

'Has any one seen him?' No one nodded.

A memory of something Eric had said last night returned to Hank. _'I'm tired of having to put up with you all. I don't need your help!.'_

The reality struck Hank suddenly, making him go cold with bitterness and anger and the foul feeling of betrayal. Eric had gone. He had done actually done it. He had taken the Bow and abandoned them. He'd left them unguarded in the middle of the night. Hank looked at the others and saw the realisation hit each one of them in turn. He had to turn away, unable to speak, so it was Presto who finally said what everyone was thinking.

'He's left us here. He's gone to the portal without us.'


	3. Chapter 3

The Warlock started to pace. He walked round the altar, checking the goblet and the knife, then across to the open window and back to the altar to start again. Time lost all meaning in the uniform repetition of his actions. Eventually, he heard the footsteps on the stairs and forced himself to remain calm. With a slow breath in, he turned to meet the Minion.

'We have the weapon, great Master.'

'Give it to me. Quickly.'

The Minion moved forward and bowed low, pulling the Ranger's Bow from its robes.

The Warlock grasped it tenderly, his hands shaking. He looked critically at its surface. Perfect, without the slightest scratch or blemish, and he could feel its magic coiling under the surface. It was beautiful.

'And the Ranger?' he asked absent-mindedly, still intent on the Bow.

The Minion nodded, 'We brought him here as you instructed, Master. But…'

'But?'

The Minion didn't say anything. Only when the Warlock took a threatening step forward, did it reply.

'He was damaged, Master. He resisted a great deal.'

The Warlock nodded, his attention back to the Bow. He had it. He finally had everything he needed.

'Bring him!'

* * *

It was mid-morning by the time the gang were free of the mushrooms. From its edge the Lightning Forest was clearly visible across the rock-strewn valley, with its tall black trees and the occasional flashes of sharp, blue light.

Hank the new Barbarian trudged along at the back of the group, with his Club over his shoulder and his helmet sliding into his eyes, trying ,and failing, not to think about Eric. It was not the first time Eric had gone off alone, but this time it was different. Firstly, he'd Hank's Bow. He was Eric the Ranger, who was supposed to be looking out for his friends, not some spoiled brat that could go slinking off under his Shield whenever he wanted to. Secondly, he'd left in secret, in the middle of the night, leaving them unguarded. And after they'd been attacked by Dark Elves earlier in the day.

Hank shivered with a sudden cold. What if he hadn't woken at that point? Hank clenched his fist. He was not one for meaningless violence but the next time he saw the ol' Cavalier he was going to punch his lights out. Seeing that annoying face with a black eye would be very satisfying. They had never, ever, _ever_ been that close before. The one time they had really needed Eric, and he had let them down.

Hank looked at the others.

Bobby was the only one to let his emotions show. Hank remembered the way the young boy had looked round at his remaining friends, eyes full of tears. Then his demeanour had changed to one of angry disregard, saying that he would set the Hat on the ol' Cavalier next time they saw him, and see how he liked that. The new Magician and his unicorn were walking purposely forward, with an 'I'll-show-you' kind of attitude that had no one fooled. Both Presto and Diana were less easily comforted. Eric and Presto went back a long way, and the thought that his best friend could abandon him in the Realm was almost too much for Presto to bear. And Diana? However much she loved to taunt the Cavalier, they were friends of a strange sort. She had taken Eric's defection as some sort of personal insult. She and Presto were walking together behind Bobby, not talking, but they seemed to draw some kind of comfort from the other's presence.

Hank looked at Sheila, walking beside him once more. She clinked along in her mail and armour, the Cavalier's Shield slung over her back. He knew she hated this. How he wanted to put his arm around her, to hold her, and reassure her. But not in front of the others. She had barely said anything all morning, but just walked next to him.

'Hey, Hank,' called Bobby. 'Come see this.'

He was pointing across the valley, towards the shadow of the hills.

Hank ran up beside him, shielding his eyes with his hand. Not far ahead was a steep rise, covered in loose stones and large boulders. Beyond that the land dipped sharply, suddenly revealing a huge camp of seventy, perhaps one hundred horse-drawn caravans with people milling around. Off to the left there was a thin curl of smoke from a campfire.

'You'd better check it out, Sheila,' he said. Sheila looked miserably at her Shield and Hank grimaced. 'Sorry. Diana? Will you go take a look?'

The new Thief nodded and pulled her Cloak up, disappearing. They saw her footprints heading off towards the camp. There was barely time to share some water and sit down before she was back with news.

'They seem to be traders,' she said, after taking a swig of water. 'The convoy seems headed to the village.'

The kids moved closer, making no attempt to hide, and soon two tall men were striding towards them. They greeted the Young Ones cordially, but kept a wary eye on Hank, much to his annoyance. Then he remembered he wasn't the Ranger any more. A little boy like Bobby with a Club was one thing, but an almost grown man carrying such a weapon was entirely different.

The men questioned them for a short while, keeping their distance, but when Diana mentioned Dungeonmaster's name, their demeanour changed.

'So you are Dungeonmaster's latest pupils?' said the taller of the two. He looked to his companion. 'Perhaps we should take them to Arhala?'

The companion nodded, then smiled.

'We should have known that Dungeonmaster wouldn't forget about us.'

Hank stopped himself from asking more. They were on their way home, and Dungeonmaster had said nothing about meeting anyone on the way. But then, when did he ever?

The smell of freshly-cooked food greeted them as they walked into camp, and a line of people, mostly women and children, watched them as they walked past. Some of the children chattered excitedly and pointed at Uni, who strutted along with her head held high, obviously enjoying the attention. The two men lead them through the maze of cream-coloured carriages towards the campfire. Huge, brown billows of smoke wafted up into the sky and the sound of crackling wood grew louder. They stopped within sight of the fire beside a smallish carriage.

'Arhala,' one called, 'we have brought guests.'

An old woman stepped out of the caravan. She was at least 80 years old, judging by the lines on her face, and she stepped forward using a stick as her prop. The two men bowed at her.

'Dungeonmaster's pupils,' said the shorter man.

'So these are the Young Ones we have heard about,' she looked round them with a bright glint in her eye that belied her age. She stared at their little unicorn, then said:

'Haret, Smar, go! Arrange some brew, and some bread for us.'

The two men bowed once more and left. The old woman bent down beside Uni.

'A unicorn, and such a pretty one!' She reached out and gently stroked Uni's head. The unicorn shook with pleasure. 'It's been so long since I've seen one. Of all the signs, this is the most welcome.'

'Signs?' asked Presto.

'I have lead these people for many years, young Acrobat. Perhaps it is time they had a new leader.'

As she spoke, one of the men appeared suddenly from around a corner.

'There is plenty of bread and brew out by the cook's carriage, Arhala.'

She waved her hand at the Young Ones.

'Come! We will toast our good fortune.'

The kids exchanged confused looks but followed the woman as she walked slowly away from the fires to a long carriage with an open side. Someone had set out three covered baskets and a large, open-topped barrel with a ladle attached by a rope, as well as seven wooden seats.

Hank inhaled deeply, savouring the smell of freshly made bread. He hadn't smelt anything like that since home. All the comforts of that life seemed very far away now. He inhaled once more and couldn't stop himself licking his lips, remembering the tastes and smells of Earth, everything that they had missed. How he wanted to go home. This time they would make it. _This time…_

'Sit here Barbarian, and we can talk.'

Arhala pointed to the seat next to her, and the others gathered round on the rest of the seats. She passed them the bread, soft, warm and very easy to eat; and brew, which tasted suspiciously like alcoholic tea with a dash of lemon juice. Uni sat at Arhala's feet, and the old woman fed her unicorn-sized portions of bread every so often.

'Why do you Young Ones come this way? This is not a safe place, even for brave heroes like you.'

Presto blushed at the word "heroes" and Sheila smiled.

'We are on our way to a portal to our home world,' she said wistfully. 'Maybe this time we'll get through.'

The old woman seemed surprised.

'There is no portal within miles of this valley,' she said. She must have seen the crestfallen looks the gang exchanged, because she quickly asked:

'Who sent you here?'

'Dungeonmaster,' replied Hank, trying to keep the disappointment from his voice.

Arhala nodded sagely.

'The Dungeonmaster knows far more than I do of these matters. He would not send you on a fruitless quest.'

There was an empty pause, a high-pitched, petulant voice in Hanks head saying: ' _But that's all Captain Shortness ever does._ ' The others seemed to hear similar voices, as they all looked just as uncomfortable. Arhala looked round the group then asked:

'Where did he say this portal was?'

She looked at Hank expectantly.

'The Lightning Forest, to the South.'

'That is a dangerous place, my children. The Forest claims the lives of the unwary. But there is a secret path through to the central clearing, if that is where the portal is.'

The others looked at Hank too. He shrugged.

'I guess it must be, Dungeonmaster didn't give us specific directions. He said the Circle of Stones.'

'How are we gonna get through, Hank?' asked Sheila earnestly. But another thought distracted him. Eric. He could never get through on his own.

The old woman smiled at Sheila.

'Don't worry, child,' she said reassuringly. 'I will share its secret with you. There is only one safe way through the Lightning Forest. You must always take the left-hand fork.'

The conversation paused as they ate the bread, everyone smiling except Hank. They knew the secret, they could easily get to the portal. But what about Eric? The new Barbarian took a deep breath, fighting the discomfort inside. Eric chose this, not him. Eric left of his own free will. He had abandoned them, not the other way round. He took a big gulp of brew and tried to think of a question to take his mind of that damn Cavalier.

'Where exactly are we?' was all he could come up with.

'This valley, and the Fungi Forest you have just come through, are known as 'Zilzad's Playground'. Zilzad is an Imp, one of only a few left in the Realm. If you caught him, he would grant you a Wish.' Arhala frowned. 'But they never worked out the way they aught to.'

'No kidding!' muttered Presto, with a longing look at Bobby's green robes.

'But the Warlock now controls this whole area.' Arhala turned and pointed to the squat castle on the western horizon, its single tower rising up high above the horizon. 'His arm has grown long, and we are leaving for safer lands. There are many dangers here. You should not delay, my young friends.'

'Aw, don't worry about us,' said Bobby. 'We'll be home for dinner!'

'What sort of dangers?' asked Diana.

'The Warlock is now master of the Elves of the Lightning Forest. They have become Dark and Evil, bound to carry out his every desire. They roam the valley and forests at night, hunting the unwary.' She lowered her voice. 'The Warlock will soon be too strong. He covets magic and is always seeking to increase his power. You Young Ones would do well to stay out of his way.'

'Why don't you just fight him?' asked Bobby.

Arhala suddenly laughed, making Hank jump.

'My young Magician, look around you and tell me what you see.'

Bobby looked, then said:

'I just see carts and carriages, and a few rocks.'

Arhala smiled at him.

'We have nothing but what you see here. We have no power against the likes of the Warlock. So we are leaving for a place that does. In the village to the North, Chief Kalesh has granted us safe haven.'

'We've just come from there,' said Bobby excitedly. 'It's great, no Warlock would be dumb enough to attack it.'

'Unfortunately, our way is blocked. The Stone Dragon that feeds in the Fungi Forest is close by, so we must risk waiting in the Warlock's lands. Our caravans would be easy targets.'

'Don't worry about that,' said Bobby proudly. 'We took care of it earlier. No sweat!'

Arhala looked round the faces of the group in surprise.

'The Dragon? It's gone?'

Hank nodded, pleased at the look of delight on the old woman's face, and quickly explained how they had defeated it.

'This is wonderful news!' said Arhala. 'We must move immediately, before the Warlock hears of this.' She signalled to a passing child. 'Go, bring Smar quickly. Tell him I have good news.'

The old woman looked round gratefully at the group, then bent down to ruffle Uni's red main.

'Thank you, my young friends. You have helped more than you know. And I have up my mind,' she added cryptically. Smar appeared quickly and the old woman rose to greet him. 'The Dragon has gone. We are leaving here immediately. Sound the chimes and call the scouts back.' Smar looked confused, but nodded his ascent. Arhala looked into the younger man's eyes. 'And you will lead them through the Fungi Forest, Smar.'

The man stiffened, realising what she had said, then gave a wide smile.

'Thank you for your trust, Arhala.'

He turned and ran quickly off through the camp, giving the orders as he went. In less than a minute, the camp was full of noise and activity.

'We should go too,' Hank said. 'Thank you for your advice, and the food.'

Arhala nodded, watching the people around them rushing past.

'I hope you Young Ones get home.'

The others said their goodbyes and moved off towards the now smouldering fires. But Hank paused, and waited until the others were out of earshot.

'Have you seen anyone else today?' he asked.

The woman shook her head.

'Are you sure? He's dressed in green, with a golden Bow?'

'No one else has come this way, Barbarian.' Hank grimaced at the sound of his new title. The woman looked at him and nodded, as if something made sense.

'It was said that Dungeonmaster's pupils were six in number,' she said 'And their leader was the Ranger.'

Hank couldn't look her in the eye for some reason. Why was Eric always the cause of so many problems? Even when he wasn't around, he still managed to make trouble.

'It is not safe to wander in these lands, Barbarian,' said Arhala. 'Do not underestimate the Warlock. He will take any opportunity he can.'

The new Barbarian still didn't speak, but nodded curtly, then ran off to catch up with the others.

Arhala's words worried him so much that he didn't speak to anyone else until they had crossed over the rest of the valley and had reached the edge of the Lightning Forest. He lagged behind, walking on his own, occasionally casting quick looks back towards the Fungi Forest. Diana and Presto were talking excitedly about the Forest and the portal. Sheila was talking to Bobby, having discovered that Hank was in no mood to chat.

When he finally reached the eves of the Forest, Sheila was waiting for him. The others stood a respectable distance from the edge. Big, blue sparks were clearly visible, arching between the branches of the black trees. In front of them was a narrow path, leading into the Forest. Sheila watched him approach, a look of concern on her face.

'Hank? You OK?'

The new Barbarian looked past her to the trees and the path, watching the forks of lightning crackle randomly through the branches. He had half expected Eric to be there, waiting for them to catch up with a smug smile on his face. But there was no new Ranger.

'Hank?'

'C'mon guys,' shouted Diana, 'What are you waiting for?'

'Its Eric, isn't it?' said Sheila quietly. 'What are we going to do?'

Hank shrugged. The others had noticed something was up, and were coming to join them. He waited until they were all there, then said:

'What should we do, about Eric?'

There was a sullen silence, no one wanted to talk about their one-time Cavalier, but eventually Sheila said:

'You don't think he's in trouble do you? What did Arhala say to you at the end?'

Hank frowned, hearing Arhala's warning once again. _It is not safe to wander in these lands_.

'She hadn't seen him,' he replied. 'You know what he's like. He could be anywhere.'

'What kind of trouble could he get himself into?' Sheila said.

'What kind of trouble couldn't he get himself into?' countered Diana with a scowl.

Hank looked round at the others. Time was probably running out. Who knows how long the portal would stay open. Another chance to get home would be gone.

'It's not fair, Hank,' said Diana. 'He left us, remember. We can't search the who valley for him, he could be anywhere!'

'He's probably eating hotdogs and pizza at this very moment,' said Bobby bitterly. 'With his feet up in front of the TV.'

'It was his choice, Hank,' said Diana, 'We can't wait.'

Hank took an idle swing at the loose stones on the path with his Club. _It is not safe to wander in these lands_. He felt suddenly very angry, more angry than he had been in a long time, since he'd decided they had gone to find the Dragon's Graveyard. Eric had left them, not just that, he had left them unprotected. He had taken the Bow and gone off home on his own. If this portal closed before they got to it, how was he going to keep them others safe with just a Club? They needed their Ranger.

Dungeonmaster had been wrong this time. Trust in friendship? Some friend Eric was. Ignoring the sick feeling in his stomach, without another word Hank turned and led the others into the forest.

* * *

 _Head hurting, arms hurting._ There were strange noises, and an unpleasant, greasy smell. _Cold._ Where was he? What happened? Why couldn't he move?

Eric opened his eyes slowly, letting his eyes get used to the low light levels. He was alone in an unfamiliar room, unlit except for a few rays of sunlight that leaked through the single, open window. The outline of a long, wooden table was visible in the middle of the room, and the walls were covered with dark drapes that seemed to suck the light into them.

There was a cold, rough feeling against his back and he realised his shirt was missing. What was going on? What had he done this time? His head hurt too much to panic properly.

Eric tried to move, but his arms were held firmly outstretched by the thin rings of steel around his wrists. He was pinned against the wall, and could barely breathe without pain shooting through his shoulders. It felt like he was being pulled apart.

Slowly, memories of the days before came back, the Imp and the arguments. They had stopped for the night next to the crystal, in the shelter of some mushrooms and he had taken first watch. All he'd done was worry about Venger's Master, and how to use that Bow. Nothing had happened until the end of his watch. He'd heard noises and gone across to the crystal's remains, intent on catching that nasty little Imp, but no one was there. Then hands had grabbed him, catching him completely unprepared. The Bow was twisted out of his hand and a rough cloth was forced into his mouth. He'd panicked, struggling vainly in spite of the rain of fists. Finally, there were urgent whispers all around him and he'd felt a sharp pain in his head, then it all went a big, black blank.

He groaned. None of the others would've been caught like that! How could he have been so stupid, going off on his own, in the middle of the night? Now he was stuck in some crappy little castle, with no weapon and no option but to wait for rescue. There was no way to break free without outside help, and the others would be doubled over with laughter when they found him. They would never let him hear the end of this one.

He gave the bands one final, painful tug then gave up. He was just going to have to wait. _They might at least have left me somewhere comfy,_ he thought, his spirits rising a little. _My arms will be ten feet long by the time the others get here._

To his left there was a sudden movement, a soft swish of drapes and a man approached. He was tall, with an air of cold superiority similar to Venger's. He stopped in front of his prisoner and stood calmly, staring at Eric with bright eyes. His long, black hair tied was back in a plait and he wore long the flowing blue robes of a Warlock, held at the waist with a black belt.

The confidence Eric had felt moments earlier faded. This man seemed so purposeful and threatening, and was obviously not going to leave him to be humiliated in private. The man stood in front of him, watching.

'Who are you?' Eric asked, when he couldn't stand the man's harsh gaze any longer.

'I am pleased you are finally awake,' said the Warlock, completely ignoring Eric's question. 'My Minions were harsher than I wished. But now you are conscious, we can proceed with the ritual.'

 _Ritual? I don't like the sound of that_ , thought Eric, panic starting properly. The possibility that he was in really big trouble hadn't occurred to him until then.

The Warlock paused, looking at Eric with narrowed eyes.

'So you are the mighty Ranger? The leader of Dungeonmaster's little group?'

'Ranger?' said Eric, frowning.

The man raised the Bow in front of Eric's face.

'Do you recognise this?'

Eric nodded, suddenly aware that every move of his head made him feel sick.

'My Bow,' he said, his voice sounding oddly high. Saying the words felt strange: _my Bow_. It really was his Bow; he was the Ranger now and he could sense the magic of his Bow like a plaintive whine in his head.

The man handed the weapon to a nearby Minion.

'This is one of the most powerful offensive weapons in the Realm,' the Warlock said, 'if you are prepared to use it properly. It can subdue most creatures, and is certainly powerful enough to make me stronger than Venger himself.'

Eric gulped. A man with a Venger grudge, he didn't want to get caught in the middle of this at all.

'Well, um, now you have my Bow, I can just leave? Can't I?'

The man still ignored him.

'I know you freed the Imp, and I hope you found it as troublesome as I did. You may enjoy watching when the weapon is tested, after the ritual.'

There it was again, that word - _Ritual_. His interest was definitely piqued, in spite of his growing panic.

'Ah, what sort of ritual?' asked Eric. He tugged against the magic holding him down. Rituals didn't sound good, especially for the one who happened to be tied up.

This time, the man paused before saying:

'Magic weapons are both strange and temperamental things, Ranger. Yours is no exception. You are the Bow's True wielder, Ranger of the Realm. An evil willful creature may use it, but to you it will always return. I must weaken its loyalty to you. But I need something else, something more from that weapon. I must combine its magic with mine, I must bond them together.' The Warlock smiled. 'So I will take your essence, your spirit. As the rightful owner of the weapon, you will make its power much, much stronger. It will be the most powerful weapon in the Realm.'

'How?' Eric found himself asking, his mouth moving before his brain could stop it. Did he really want to know the answer?

The man before him produced a thin knife from his belt and smiled.

Eric looked at the knife and struggled furiously, ignoring the stabbing pain in his arms and torso, but the steel held him fast.

The Warlock frowned, the knife still held high.

'Restrain him!' he ordered.

A Minion, dressed in Black robes materialised beside its Master. It came up close, close enough for Eric to see the malice in its eyes. Then it punched him in the stomach, leaving the Cavalier gasping for breath. He went limp.

The Warlock ran his fingers slowly along Eric's right arm, feeling for a vein. Another black clad Minion appeared, carrying an ornate, silver cup that was large enough to hold a serious amount of liquid. It held the goblet under Eric's upper arm wit one hand, the other pushing Eric's shoulder hard against the wall.

Suddenly, there was the cold touch of metal, then he moaned in pain as the knife sliced into his flesh across the side of his bicep. He felt the blood flow out over his skin and heard the soft plinks as it dripped into the cup, faster and faster. The new Ranger had no idea how long the man collected blood for, but eventually he began to feel dizzy and his head sagged forward.

When the man turned away, the goblet was full. Blood still flowed from the cut in his arm, and Eric struggled against waves of unconsciousness. Held with a grim fascination, he watched as the Bow was brought to the table close by and laid on the luxurious velvet.

Candles and incense were lit at either end, then the Warlock began to chant in an incomprehensible language. He dipped his fingers into the blood he had collected from Eric and smeared it over the Bow's handle. Thin curls of smoke wafted through the room, giving off a heavy, earthy fragrance, but even that couldn't disguise the sharp smell of fresh blood. The sound of low chanting was all Eric could hear, the same words, over and over and over, almost lulling him to sleep.

Finally, the Warlock poured the remaining blood over the whole bow, from tip to tip, covering it in blood. There was a faint sizzling noise, like meat on a barbeque. From a hollow in the altar, the Warlock produced a rough-hewn, purple crystal and held it over then Bow.

'Make it mine!' he shouted.

Thin crackles of lightning coursed down the Warlocks arm and body, and over the table to the Bow. A thin beam of white light came from the crystal, smacking directly into Eric's bare chest, freezing him in place, unable to move, unable to breathe. There was no pain, just a growing emptiness. His eyes almost flickered shut. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't.

Slowly the light from the crystal faded and the paralysis passed. Eric gulped in air as the Warlock reached forward and picked up the Bow, now as black as the night sky.

'Bring me the Imp!' The Warlock's voice sounded different, deeper, with an edge to it like the crack of a whip.

A high-pitched eeeping echoed round the room as the Imp was dragged in, a short chain fastened round its neck. It looked around furtively, searching for an escape.

The man snarled at it, his teeth showing white in the pale light.

'You won't escape your punishment this time.'

The Warlock reached across the Bow, red light at his fingertips. He pulled a deep red arrow, the colour of Eric's blood, then fired. There was a roar, like the burning of a fire in a grate as the arrow sliced through the air and crashed into the Imp, wreathing it in red fire. It shrieked, again and again, and again, howling in unbearable pain.

Eric closed his eyes, as the shrieks became grunts, and the grunts became pants. When he looked up the Imp was lying limply on the floor of the chamber, bands of red flame round its wings and neck. It was unable to move. A Minion picked it up and carried it to the window.

'I think that will teach you not to play tricks on those more powerful than yourself,' said the Warlock.

The Imp wriggled in vain, panic in its eyes as it was dangled out of the window, then there was a long wrenching scream that faded as it fell.

Eric stared at the window, numb with shock and magic. _This wasn't happening._ The Warlock turned slowly to look back at his prisoner.

'A successful test, I think,' said he with a wild smile. There was a light in his wide eyes that had been absent before, the look of a man consumed by power. 'The Conduit worked! The transfer is complete!'

The Warlock walked right up to Eric and grabbed his jaw, forcing his head back.

'Now, what shall I do with you?'

'Please… don't drop… me …out of …the … window,' Eric spluttered, 'I mean… don't…'

_Come on guys. Where are you when I really need you?_

There was a sudden, low rumble from the left and the Warlock looked round, letting go of the Cavalier. Eric looked too, a thin smile on his face. They wouldn't have left him, not really. He would have to tell Hank to work on his timing.

But the smart comment died on his lips as he looked up, and saw the face of Venger.


	4. Chapter 4

The room was utterly silent as the two most powerful Mages in the Realm faced each other. Neither moved. The Warlock looked calm, a slight, superior smile on his lips. The Bow in his hand was held up, ready for action. Venger's face was disfigured by a contemptuous sneer, and all his attention was fixed on the Warlock.

For once, Eric was glad not to be on the receiving end of Venger's anger. Then a sudden, unpleasant thought struck him: the others could never get here in time. They weren't going to get him out of this. He frowned. His only hope was Venger. Eric watched the Arch-Mage carefully. He'd never thought the day would come when he was rooting for Horn-Head to win.

'Warlock,' Venger said at last, watching the other man through half-closed eyes.

'Venger, at last!'

Both men moved simultaneously. Two balls of flame shot out of Venger's hands as the Warlock casually drew an arrow and fired. There was another deep roar that shook the room as the arrow sliced through the Arch-Mage's magic fire scattering it harmlessly away. Venger laughed as the energy from the arrow coiled itself around his waist and arms. But the laughter soon faded when he realised he couldn't move.

The Warlock took a step forward and released another arrow. Venger struggled with the writhing magic, the red fire coursing up and down his body and over the huge, black wings. It was not in Venger's nature to acknowledge weakness, but Eric could see anger and pain in his eyes. Slowly the Arch-Mage sank to his knees.

Eric was stunned. That was it? One hit and Venger was down? What was going on? He saw Venger brace himself as another arrow flew towards him. There was no scream of pain, but soon the Arch-Mage had loops of red magic around his wings, wrists and neck. He glared at the Warlock.

'How?' was all that Venger muttered.

The Warlock lifted the black Bow, never taking his eyes from the weapon.

'Now you see who is the Master. You see what I have done. I can do _anything_!' he shouted. The Warlock was shaking, his eyes wide with triumphant glee.

'How?' whispered Venger again.

'With this weapon I will rule the Realm, no one can stop me.'

Gone was the calculating calmness the Warlock had shown before. He was beyond arrogance or good sense and revelled in his opponents defeat, an arrogant sneer on his face. The Cavalier shivered. _That guy's gone nuts._ But Eric knew he'd seen that particular look before. He was suddenly reminded of his own Father, after a successful business coup.

Venger shuddered, struggling to move against the magic that held him. Eric was sure he saw a thin sheen of sweat on the Arch-Mage's brow. The Warlock finally looked down at the defeated Mage before him.

'The magic that holds you will not let you raise a hand against me, or act contrary to my wishes. You were a powerful enemy, but you are threat to me no longer. I could destroy you in a heartbeat. But,' the Warlock smiled, 'I suggest you consider your position, Venger, ' he said, as if bestowing a final favour on a grovelling peasant. 'Will you serve me?'  
  
Eric looked from one to the other, wondering what was happening. Surely the Warlock wasn't stupid enough to keep Venger as a slave?

And Venger? Well, for one crazy moment, Eric was sure the Arch-Mage would say _yes_. But then he remembered that this was Venger, the same Venger that had chased the Young Ones all over the Realm, who had battled Tiamat more times than he could be bothered counting, who had raised armies of evil Orcs to subdue all the small pockets of good that could still be found. This was Venger: He was the Master, never a servant.

'Yes,' said the Arch-Mage, 'I will serve you.'

Eric almost choked, unable to believe what he had just heard. What was Venger playing at?

'Swear it!'

Venger didn't hesitate.

'I swear it, Master.'

'Then rise, and take your pre-destined place at my side.'

The magic bands faded, but didn't disappear completely and Venger slowly got to his feet. He looked down at the magic on his wrists, the sneer back on his lips.

'How did you do this?'

The Warlock looked sternly at him and Venger corrected himself.

'How did you do this, Master?' Eric had never heard the word "Master" used as such an insult.

The Warlock stroked the Bow lovingly.

'The Conduit of Transference from the Dragon's Graveyard,' he replied, with a quick wave at the altar. Venger's eyebrows raised a notch, but the Warlock carried on, oblivious. 'I have used its power to transform the Ranger's Bow, taking my own magic and combining it with the boy's life-force.'

Both men turned to stare at Eric, who suddenly wished he could vanish of the face of the Realm. Their faint amusement at his predicament was worse than the burning pain in his arms and shoulders. And, on top of everything else, he couldn't even think of a decent putdown.

Venger looked carefully at the Cavalier, still half-dressed in the Ranger's clothes, then back to the Bow, and frowned for a second before giving a particularly unpleasant smirk.

'You? You are the Ranger today?' he said. 'How amusing. Let me guess…you met the Imp?'

Eric didn't reply, and not just because he still felt sick and couldn't move. This was all going wrong. He would have panicked if he had the strength. He wanted to panic; panic would be a good feeling, but at it was all he felt was empty and tired.

He tried to concentrate on what was happening, but all he could think about was the Warlock. He was being so stupid, so confident in his new weapon. Venger would never stay as a slave. What was the Warlock thinking? Why did he trust Venger, of all the people in the Realm? What had happened, why was the Warlock being so dumb all of a sudden?

A glint of light from the Bow caught his attention. With all that power, was there anything the Warlock couldn't do? Was the Warlock really invincible while wielding it? And what about Venger?

The Arch-Mage was watching him, and gave a snort of disgust.

'And to think, the Warlock used your life force in his ritual,' he said, with special contempt in the word 'your'. 'I am surprised it worked.' Venger turned back to his new Master. 'What of the others?' he asked.

The thought that the Warlock had the others hadn't crossed Eric's mind. Were they here too, locked in a dungeon, waiting?

The Warlock seemed surprised by the question.

'Nothing, they are heading to my portal as we speak.'

No other words had ever sounded so good to Eric. His friends were safe. The thought that this horrible experience might happen to Presto, or Sheila, or any of them, was more than he could bear.

Venger's eyebrows rose once more.

'Their weapons?'

'The weapons are of no concern. I have all I need.'

'But their weapons are also from the Graveyard,' said Venger, eyeing the Warlock very carefully. 'They might withstand the Bow's power. They are wielded by the pure at heart, after all.'

This made the Warlock pause, and Eric started worrying again. He made another, futile effort to get free. Venger approached the Warlock and said quietly:

'The others will come for this one. The opportunity to take the weapons of power away from the Young Ones should not be passed up.'

The Warlock looked doubtfully at Venger.

'Why would they come, Venger? The portal is not guarded, why would they stay?'

Those words hurt more than the physical pain. Maybe they would leave him. The prediction of Venger's Master would be fulfilled by his own actions. He had driven his friends away.

'They would not abandon one of their own number,' said Venger calmly, 'If you wait, you can gain the power of their weapons as well, and using them all together will ensure that Tiamat will not stand in your way, or even Dungeonmaster himself.'

The Warlock gave a derisive snort.

'Dungeonmaster does not worry me, Venger! But Tiamat is different. The children's weapons would be very effective against the Queen of the Dragons. I wonder what sort of wonderful weapon would be created by her death.'

He gave a cold laugh then said:

'I shall send my Minions to collect them.'

'No!' said Venger loudly. 'Bring them here, and face them in your stronghold. Send a messenger to trick them. Use their friend as bait.'

As the Warlock pondered the suggestion, Eric saw Venger smile that evil, I'm-plotting-your-inevitable-destruction smile that he'd seen so many times before. _But how?_ Eric wondered. _What are you up to, Venger? What do you want with the others?_

'Very well, Venger,' said the Warlock after a long silence. 'I shall take the weapons of power, something you have tried and failed to do so many times before.'

Venger scowled, his eyes burning with anger, but he simply lowered his head in submission.

'I have the perfect messenger in mind. Master.'

'Come then, let us prepare.'

The Warlock swept past Venger and the Cavalier without a sideways glance. Venger bowed, the red lines of magic glowing round his neck. But Eric could tell by the cold smile on Venger's face that he had absolutely no intention of helping for longer than he had to. As the Arch-Mage followed his new Master, he shot Eric an angry look.

'And you had better hope they're quick, boy!' he muttered.

* * *

They had been on the move for over an hour, all the time heading towards the centre. The path itself was narrow and difficult to follow, and they had stopped a number of times to make sure of their direction. Several flashed of lightning had skipped between the branches close by them, but none had struck the path. Tiny blue birds with long, red bills darted in and out of the trees chasing insects, and once or twice they'd seen a flash of brown and blue as strange animals scurried past.

Hank walked in the lead, the others following in a straggly line. No one had said anything since they had entered the Forest, and the new Barbarian was grateful for the silence. However hard he tried to keep calm, excitement was building with every step at the possibility of a way home. But not once had they seen any sign of Eric, and to keep thoughts of their hapless ol' Cavalier out of his head, he concentrated on home, his Mom and Dad, his other friends, and the unanswerable question: how was he going to explain his absence? He was going to get the grounding of the Century when he got home. But not even that thought could dampen his hope today.

There was a sudden glint of colour to his left, a startling change form the monotony of charred trees. He stopped.

The portal!

'There is it, guys!' he shouted, 'I can see it, I can see it!'

There was a whoop of joy from Bobby the Magician.

It was one of the best sights Hank had ever seen. They turned a corner and directly in front of them was a clearing in the thick wall of black trees. Four huge stones stood round the edges and raised on a rocky outcrop near the centre, was the glowing portal home.

He could see into it, see the tents and the rides, the people walking around. Faint sounds of fun filtered through, laughter and voices, and the quiet whir of fairground wheels. He could even smell food.

Hank stared at it dumbly for a couple of seconds, feeling his heart thumping, then took a step forward, then another, and broke into a run. The footsteps of the others were clear behind him.

He had almost reached the steps when he noticed something that made him skid to a halt, in spite of the portal. Sitting on the bottom step, looking dishevelled, dirty and thoroughly wretched was the little Wish Imp, its wings deformed with glowing red bands of magic, with a red collar to match. The Imp looked miserably up at him and sniffed. It looked so lost and frightened that he couldn't just race past it, so with a huge effort of will, Hank turned away from the portal, trying to concentrate on the Imp. It sniffed again. Uni trotted up to it and gave a cautious whinny.

The others had stopped as well, and Sheila came up to sit next to the Imp. It turned and looked at her, big tears forming at the edges of its grey eyes.

'What do you want?' demanded Bobby, who had stopped closest to the portal, so close he could touch it.

'I need you to help,' it said quietly, 'Please?'

Bobby gave a surly humph and Presto asked:

'Why do you need us, you've caused us a lot of trouble, you know.'

The Imp sagged its shoulders, looking sad.

'All the others have gone, I am the only one left. I know of no one else to ask.' It looked round at them. 'You are good. You are the Pure of Heart. I am sorry. I make wishes, that is all I can do. Not even Dungeonmaster can change me.'

'What happened?' asked Sheila, 'How did you get like this?'

The Imp shivered.

'Warlock,' it said.

Hank gave a sigh. Ever since Arhala had mentioned the evil Warlock, he'd had the nasty feeling they would have to meet him.

Diana looked round at the portal and said:

'Couldn't we just Wish it differently? You are a Wish Imp.'

The Imp sniffed again.

'Wishes gone. All gone. Warlock took them. Warlock is powerful, has a weapon from the Dragon's Graveyard, most powerful weapon.' It pointed to the rings round its wings, and sighed. Hank's stomach lurched at the next two words: 'Magic Bow.'

He knelt down in front of the Imp, feeling cold and sick.

'Was Eric there? You know, the one you met first.'

The Imp looked down at the ground and didn't reply.

'He must have been,' said Diana. 'How else could that Warlock have gotten hold of the Bow? Eric wouldn't have left it lying around.'

'I bet Eric's fine,' said Bobby. 'He probably dropped the Bow in his rush to get to the portal.'

'Yeeeah, hine,' agreed Uni, who was pawing the ground and casting angry looks at the Imp.

'Was Eric there?' Presto repeated.

The Imp finally nodded, as the red magic collar and cuffs glowed a faint red.

'Top tower,' it said.

Hank sighed and put his head in his hands. Damn that useless Cavalier. How did he manage to get into these situations? He looked round to the portal, seeing the people, and thinking of his own home, his parents, his friends.

'Eric's probably in trouble,' said Sheila. 'What'll we do?'

Hank knew the others were all looking at him. He was the leader, he had to make the right decision. The last thing in the world Hank wanted to do at the moment was go chasing after their wretched Cavalier. They had needed him earlier, but he wasn't there. So what if the shoe was on the other foot now?

'I'm not sure, guys,' he said slowly, looking up. 'But if this Warlock has the Bow, then there's no telling what he might do with it.'

He looked round at the others.

'I don't care what happens to the stupid Cavalier,' said Bobby loudly. ' I wanna go home!'

'Bobby!' said Sheila. 'We can't just leave him. We can't.'

'He started it. It's not our fault he's in trouble.'

No one spoke.

Hank looked at Diana.

'He did leave us first, Hank,' said Diana uncertainly. 'I mean, can we just forget about that?'

Presto was looking at the ground, his head bowed.

'Presto?' asked Hank gently.

The new Acrobat gave a long sigh and looked up at Hank with a rueful half-smile.

'He was probably trying to get directions. I can just see him wandering up to the castle and asking if anyone had seen a portal.' Presto looked hopefully up at Hank. 'He might get out on his own,' he said, then paused and shook his head. 'Who am I trying to kid? Eric couldn't find his way out of an open gate!'

There was a long, heavy silence. Then Hank said:

'We can't let the Bow stay in the wrong hands, guys. We have to stop this Warlock.'

'And Eric?' insisted Presto.

Hank could only shrug. Leaving him stuck in some dungeon would be punishment enough, and very, very tempting. But the Bow was a powerful weapon, and he didn't dare tell the others just how bad it could be if this Warlock used it against the good people in the Realm. That was the bottom line. They had to retrieve the Bow. And they had to retrieved Eric at the same time, even if they didn't really want to.

He stood up.

'We'll have to go,' he said firmly.

It spoke volumes for his leadership that no one said anything against his decision, not even Bobby.

The others all turned and looked into the portal, giving it one long, last look. It wasn't the first time they had turned back from their home world, but this was the hardest. Hank turned away first, a terrible, empty feeling inside balanced with equal measures of anger and resentment. Slowly, one by one, he heard the others do the same. The Imp scampered to the front of the group, leading the way out of the forest.

They walked in silence, the Imp always in the lead. It was the worst time Hank had ever experienced. All he could think about was home and he was sure all the others were having similar thoughts. None of his friends talked, they just followed him out of the Forest and across the lower part of the valley, the silence making him feel a thousand times worse. It was as if they had given up all hope of every getting home, once and for all.

Hours passed as they walked in silence behind the Imp. The valley was empty, so they slowly climbed the steep hills up to the castle. The castle grew bigger and more imposing with every step. It was long and low, except for a single tower to the back, with thick, stone ramparts and a big gate at the front.

It was only when Hank got a clear look at the castle's gate that the thought of home was driven out of his mind. They now had more serious problems. He looked down at the weapon in his hand, the Club. How were they going to win this time?

As soon as the gateway was in sight, Diana flicked up the hood of her Cloak and ran on ahead, after promising to only scout the entrance and not go any further. They waited in an uncomfortable silence.

'Castle is deserted,' she said when she returned. 'There wasn't a single guard anywhere. I could have walked right in.' She looked uncomfortable for a few seconds then added, 'But I saw the Nightmare.'

'Venger!'

The Imp squirmed uncomfortably at the name.

'Did you know about this?' Hank asked the Imp angrily.

'Warlock and Venger are enemies,' it replied.

'It sounds like a trap to me, one with Venger's fingerprints all over it.' said Presto. He pointed to the Imp. 'Can we even trust it, after what it did to us?'

The Imp just looked at him with big soulful eyes.

'We have to Presto,' said Hank, 'We can't risk Venger or anyone else using that Bow.'

Presto gave a humph.

'Well, I still think it's a trap.'

'The Imp said Eric was in the top tower.'

'That sounds like a good place for a trap.' Presto crossed his arms, the golden jewellery of the Acrobat glinting in the sunshine.

'C'mon guys,' said Sheila. 'We need a plan. We have to get in there, get the Bow and get out, with Eric.'

Bobby snorted at the sound of the ol' Cavalier's name, and Uni joined in. Hank took a deep breath and looked at his friends, assuming his I'm-the-leader-so-I-know-what-to-do face.

'We need to get into that tower. Bobby, get ready with some anti-Venger spells. Diana, keep your eyes open for the Bow, you too, Presto. Sheila, stay close to Bobby, make sure that he has a chance to get the Hat going.'

'What about you, Hank?'

Hank hefted the Club from hand to hand. He smiled at Bobby, who was looking worried at the prospect of having to get the Hat to cooperate.

'I'm going to act like any good Barbarian should,' he said. Bobby gave him a smile back and the others smiled to. Hank felt his confidence rising. So what if they had the wrong weapons, they had defeated Venger under worse circumstances than this.

'Are you coming too?' he asked the Imp. It cowered on the ground, shaking, covering its head with its hands.

'That's a 'no' then,' said Diana.

They looked round at each other purposefully.

'C'mon guys, let's just get this over with,' said Hank. He turned and led them towards the gate.

There was no one inside, just as Diana had said. The only movement came from the huge, black Nightmare as it strolled slowly around the stony courtyard.

Thick walls enclosed the courtyard on three sides, the other side was lower and held a single door, the only way onto the castle. Through the door was a long, dark corridor, with many doors off it. Just visible at the other end was the start of a spiral staircase.

The stairs were narrow, and they climbed up in single file. Still nothing else moved.

Hank began to get seriously worried. If the Warlock had already gone, they would never find the Bow. He hoped the Imp had been right and Eric was still in the top room. They would never have time to search the whole castle.

After five minutes of climbing, they paused at a window to catch their breath and looked out across the valley. Sheila stood close to him, hugging her Shield.

'It's a long way down,' she whispered. He nodded and tried to give her a reassuring smile, but he had never felt less confident in his life. This whole setup stank. Presto was right. This was a trap.

He gripped the Club more firmly. They would be ready for Venger. They would do what they had to, and get out as quickly as they could. He started to climb again.

At the top, when they eventually reached it, was a single, wide-open door at the end of a short hall. Hank signalled the others to come closer and together they entered the room. It was dimly lit, with only the one window letting in the suns' rays, and there was the sharp, acrid smell of smoke and metal. The walls were covered in thick, heavy drapes except… Hank's heart almost stopped.

There was Eric, pinned against the wall. He was naked from the waist up, his pale skin showing a disturbing variety of bruises. His arms were pulled taut, as if he was being slowly torn apart. The top of his left arm had a bloody cut, and there was an alarmingly large pool of congealing blood on the floor.

His head drooped down and there was no sign that he was alive.


	5. Chapter 5

Sheila reached Eric first. She touched his cheek, but jerked her hand away.

'He's so cold!' she said in a small voice and stepped back, tears in her eyes.

Hank moved forward, trying not to look at the boy's face as he searched for a pulse. The new Ranger's skin was cool, but faintly damp with perspiration. A good sign, perhaps? Hank pushed two fingers gently against Eric's neck, and waited. The next few seconds were the longest of his life. Eventually he felt a faint flutter under his fingers, and hope surged through him.

'There's a pulse,' he told the others, not bothering to disguise the relief he felt. 'But we have to get him down.'

Hank looked closely at the wall, and poked the bands around Eric's wrists. There were raw, red welts where Eric had struggled to free himself. Hank swallowed hard against the sick feeling inside. Venger had gone too far this time. Eric didn't deserve this. An image of the Stone Dragon popped into his head. They could all have been dead, if Hank hadn't woken.

'Those bands aren't just metal,' he said, in an effort to purge the Dragon from his conscious mind, 'I don't know if they'll break.'

Presto reached up, and gave the rings a tug. Eric groaned.

'Eric!' said Sheila. 'Eric, it's us!'

Hank looked again, as Eric stirred slightly. For the first time Hank noticed a large bruise on the new Ranger's right temple.

'What we gonna do, Hank?' asked Presto, who was examining the steel bands. 'Do you think the Club will work?'

'We've gotta hurry,' said Sheila, looking over her shoulder. 'Venger could be here any second.'

Hank hesitated. There was nothing in the plan that covered this. He had expected Eric to be in better shape and easy to free. Actually, he had expected the ol' Cavalier to be perfectly fine and just sitting around in a cell waiting for them, not helpless and injured and in pain. He reached up to the cut on Eric's arm, both dry and fresh blood clearly visible. How long had he been like this?

Hank took a step back, lifting the Club and taking a careful aim at Eric's closest wrist, then took a good, hard swing. The metal made an ugly crunching noise, but didn't break. Eric writhed, and let out a strangled cry. Hank lifted the Club again, but Sheila caught his arm.

'No, Hank! It's too much.'

'We can't just leave him here. What else can we do?'

He caught the suspicious look that Diana and Sheila exchanged. An ironic thing to say, since that was precisely what they had been going to do.

Eric started to lift his head and his eyes opened. He saw them and tried to shake his head, a look of panic in his eyes. He whispered two words: _Trap_ and _Venger_.

'It's OK, Eric,' whispered Presto. 'We've got plans for Venger.'

Eric frowned.

'Not Ve…'

There was an evil laugh behind them, a laugh they knew so very well. They all turned to face Venger, who was giving them an unbearably smug smile.

'So, Young Ones, you met the Wish Imp. Which one of you was foolish enough to free it, I wonder? When I saw the Cavalier with the Ranger's Bow I had to see the rest of you for myself.'

Hank tightened his grip on the Club and took a claming breath. Anger wasn't going to help. Venger continued.

'I knew you would return for your Cavalier. You loyalty makes you predictable. Even so, you took longer than I had anticipated. Did you have to think about helping him?'

Presto stirred at Hank's side, his knuckles white around the Javelin. The barbed comment had hit closer to home than they would like to admit.

'Did you bring us here just to talk?' asked Hank, hefting the Club in his hand.

'I would not be so anxious to fight, considering your current state,' Venger replied coldly.

'We are not afraid of you, under any circumstances,' said Hank with as much pride as he could muster while dressed in furry shorts and a Viking helmet.

Venger laughed, sending a chill right through the new Barbarian.

'But it is not me that you should be afraid of,' he said.

He stepped aside, to reveal another man, shorted than Venger, with a narrow face, dark hair and blue robes. This was the Warlock, and he was holding the Bow. Hank felt his breath catch in his throat. The Bow, HIS Bow! The Warlock stared at them, his eyes glinting with malicious pleasure. Venger had often looked evil and dangerous, but never before had Hank seen anyone who looked so deadly. The Bow seemed to vibrate in his hand, as if begging to be used, its black surface glinting with magic. What had happened here? And why was Venger just standing there?

'Who are you?' demanded Bobby, unperturbed by the Warlock's Bow.

'I am the new ruler of this Realm, young Magician,' said the Warlock, a wild smile on his face. 'I have subdued Venger, the greatest of the Realm's inhabitants, I am invincible!'

'Bet ya wouldn't say that if Dungeonmaster was here,' said Bobby, reaching for his Hat. Hank caught the quick, wistful glance Bobby made towards the Club and got the distinct feeling that if the Club was still with its proper wielder, the Warlock would have an instant earthquake to contend with.

'Dungeonmaster cannot stop me,' the Warlock said. 'Give me your weapons and go home, though I must keep your Ranger here.' The Warlock gave a careless shrug. 'But if you give me your weapons, the rest of you can leave. I have the power to send you wherever you wish to go.' Hank couldn't stop the memory of the Stone Dragon popping into his mind again, but then he glanced at Eric, barely conscious, and helpless. He looked at the cut on his friend's arm and the bruises. He gritted his teeth. The words had never been so difficult to say.

'No deal, Warlock,' he said. 'We're not gonna give you anything.'

The Warlock was furious, obviously surprised at the refusal.

'Stupid children! I had hoped you might be sensible about this.' He looked at Venger. 'Even your greatest enemy has recognised my superiority and cannot stand against me. I will crush you.'

'Well, if you are so-oo powerful, you can just take the weapons,' said Bobby, his hand already waving over the Hat.

'Yeah, just take them,' repeated Presto, ready to attack.

Hank lifted his Club.

'Try us!'

The Warlock's eyes gleamed as he pulled a blood-red arrow.

'It will be my pleasure.'

The arrow flew out of the Bow, filling the room with an angry roar, and looped round them, trying to catch them all with one shot. Hank swung his Club at it. They connected, and the energy loop shattered with a loud crack, but Hank felt his whole body shaking from the rebound. He wasn't going to do that again in a hurry.

'Scatter!'

Hank's hands were still numb from hitting the first arrow, but swung at the floor and the room shook, giving the others a chance to get under cover. Diana pulled her hood up and vanished, while Presto vaulted over the altar. Bobby and Uni dived under it and Sheila stood by Hank, her Shield up.

The Warlock quickly fired another arrow, this time aiming it at the only person unable to get away: Eric. The boy arched his back off the wall, his mouth open in a silent scream. Lines of red fire coursed up his body, leaving thin welts as they went.

'You are so easy to manipulate,' sneered the Warlock. 'If you care so much for your Ranger, you will not want me to do that again. Give me those weapons, NOW!'

'No!' Hank shouted. He had never felt the loss of his Bow so keenly before. Damn Club, it was useless!

Before the Warlock could release another arrow, Sheila ran in front of Eric, her Shield glowing pale yellow. She braced herself as the Warlock fired. The arrow bounced off, ricocheting into the walls and Sheila staggered back, taken by surprise at the force.

With a snarl, the Warlock fired at her again. This time the ricochet hit the far wall, pulling the heavy drapes down and making a huge crack from floor to ceiling. Bits of masonry fell from above, smashing the flagstone on the floor and wafting billows of dust into the air.

The Warlock fired again and again at Sheila. She began to tire under the constant barrage of arrows, the magic of her Shield was getting weaker.

'We've gotta free him,' called Sheila desperately. 'Hank!'

Hank was looking at the far wall, and the huge crack. It gave him a risky idea. He ran over to Sheila, who was still holding back arrows, and took a swing at the wall beside Eric.

A huge crack spread across it, spawning numerous baby cracks on the way. Eric gave a low moan and grimaced, pulling against the steel bands as hard as he could. With no warning, he pulled free. The bands were still around his wrists, but they were no longer in the wall. He slid to the ground and sat there exhausted, with small bits of stone dust dancing around him. Moments later, Sheila was knocked to the ground beside him, the magic of her Shield failing.

Hank took an angry swing at the next arrow the Warlock fired at her, the Club vibrating with the shock once more. He managed to deflect the arrow back at the Warlock, who only just jumped out of the way in time. Before the Warlock could regain his balance, a small white bundle of angry unicorn raced out from her hiding place and rammed him as hard as she could with her horn. The Warlock howled in pain, and stumbled backwards.

Hank started forward again, ready to fight, when he felt a hand on his arm. Eric was next to him, the bruise on his face so much more obvious close-up.

'Venger,' Eric whispered. He pointed to the red collar round Venger's neck that Hank hadn't noticed before. 'Free Venger.'

Hank stared at him. What kind of a stupid idea was that? The instant Venger was free he'd be after the weapons himself. And what sort of disaster would happen if Venger got hold of the new, supercharged Bow?

The last thing Hank wanted to do was trust Eric with anything, let alone their lives. Arguments against the Cavalier's plan formed; Venger would be too strong, and besides, could a blow from the Club even dent that magic collar?

In the back of his mind, Hank heard the clear, calm voice of Dungeonmaster. _Trust in friendship and in yourselves. That is the only advice I can give._

Venger had been standing motionless since the moment the Warlock had appeared. Now he took a step forward and said:

'Let me destroy them, Master. Let me crush them this time.'

He stepped forward, head held high amid the dust and the turmoil. He looked at Hank contemptuously.

'What can you do to me, Barbarian, now you are no longer the Ranger?'

Hank watched him. He could see the glowing magic collar, and Venger seemed to be deliberately taunting him, wanting him to attack. _Trust in yourselves, trust in friendship._ Hank gripped the Club as firmly as he could, swung it back and charged.

He hit Venger with all his strength and the Arch-Mage didn't flinch. Club and collar connected with a discordant clang, and the magic shattered, knocking Venger to the ground and Hank was thrown across the room by the force.

' _No!_ ' screamed the Warlock, firing another arrow at Hank. He would have been hit if Presto hadn't leapt on top of the altar, throwing the Javelin across the room to intercept the arrow. The Javelin fizzed and dropped to the ground, the green glow of its magic blinking on and off. Presto stumbled backwards towards the far wall.

Bobby ran up to Hank, muttering the words of a spell at the Hat.

'Abra-whatever, just do something clever!'

The Warlock released another arrow at Hank, and Bobby held up the Hat, screwing his eyes tight shut. There was a deep, gulping sound as the Hat swallowed the arrow. Hank and Bobby looked at each other, then down at the Hat, which was slowly starting to shake.

'Take cover!' shouted Hank, diving for the altar. Bobby dropped the vibrating Hat on the floor and followed him.

The Warlock looked at the Hat, seemingly unconcerned, then the Hat gave a violent burp, green and red shards of magic showering the room.

Hank gave a low groan, a nasty buzzing noise in his head. He blinked slowly, looking up. The Warlock was lying on the floor, the Bow a few feet away. Hank stared. The Bow, he had to get to it first. He pulled himself up of the floor.

Venger was faster. He reached it before Hank had taken two steps or the Warlock had time to stand. His black eyes gleamed with desire and excitement, and his hand shook as he held up the Bow.

'Foolish children, now it is _MINE!_ '

Hank looked angrily at Eric, an I-knew-this-would-happen look on his face. But Eric was watching the Arch-Mage turn to taunt the Warlock.

'I will teach you to try and get the better of me, Warlock!' Venger said, and reached across the Bow to draw an arrow.

But no arrow came. Venger gave a slight frown and tried again. The Warlock looked up at him and laughed.

'The Bow is mine forever, Venger. I used my magic, my soul, in its creation. No one else will be strong enough to dare use it.'

Venger lifted his free hand, magic flames forming around his fingers.

'No matter, I can still use my own magic, Warlock. You will not escape me.'

There was a sudden howl from the doorway.

Black-clad Dark Elves started to run in, brandishing scimitars and double-headed axes. They all charged at the Venger, who was taken by surprise and driven back against the wall, in spite of his magic. The Bow was knocked from his hand and skittered away across to the far side of the room.

Venger took one last, longing glance at the Bow, then looked at the sea of Dark Elves, and then finally at the Young Ones. He gave Hank an angry glare and, with a wave of his hand, he vanished.

'He's gone!' exclaimed Bobby. 'What a chicken!'

The Minions turned to face the gang, weapons at the ready. Presto backed away from them, against the wall beside Sheila and Eric. Bobby and Uni stood close to Hank.

'Destroy them!' screamed the Warlock, 'Get that Bow!'

'You mean this?' called a voice. The Bow lifted up into the air on its own. Diana pulled back her hood. 'I think this belongs to us. Hank, catch!'

She threw the Bow across the room to him and he let the Club drop to the ground. It was his again! He looked at it, black and gleaming in his hand. Just having it in his grasp again felt wonderful and he had a sudden surge of confidence. He had the Bow. He could do anything now.

'See how you like it,' Hank called tauntingly.

He reached down to draw an arrow, and a sudden desperation gripped him, an overwhelming desire to feel the Bow's power once more. He concentrated hard, feeling the muscles in his arms straining and sweat suddenly on his forehead. But nothing happened. No arrow, no matter how had he tried. With a gasp of frustration, he let the Bow fall to his side.

Minions were approaching from all directions, and more were coming in through the door, cutting of their escape.

'I think Venger had the right idea,' said Presto, looking down at the damaged Javelin on the floor.

'There were too many of them,' shouted Diana. 'Hank, what'll we do?'

They stood no chance against so many Elves and as soon as the Warlock regained the Bow, they would be done for. Hank still held the Bow, ignoring the Club on the ground beside him.

He looked to Sheila, standing against the Minions, trying to keep them away from Presto. Diana was trying to grab a scimitar from the Dark Elves, but she was heavily outnumbered. Bobby had moved to protect his sister, waving over the Hat, but it seemed to have been damaged by the explosion. It fizzed a little round the edges, but no magic came out. Eric was…

Hank jumped round in surprise. Eric was standing beside him, blood from the cut trickling down his arm, the metal bands still round his wrists and the burn lines from the arrow still clearly visible. There was no doubt what he wanted. He wanted the Bow.

Hank felt a dreadful stab of jealousy, and tightened his grip on the Bow. He could feel the thrum of its magic, and every fibre of his being wanted to use it, to pull an arrow and send it roaring into the Warlock and his Minions. It was HIS weapon, it always had been, and it always would be. Just because Eric was dressed (or half-dressed) as the Ranger, didn't mean he was the true Ranger. The Bow was rightfully _his_.

They looked at each other for several long seconds, Dark Elves approaching. The others were shouting something, but Hank couldn't hear. All he could feel was the power of his Bow as it pulsated in his hand. He would never, ever give it up, especially not to Eric.

The new Ranger held out his hand, looking at Hank with bloodshot eyes.

Hank pulled back.

'You can't have it,' he said, his voice sounding slurred. 'You left us, remember. It's mine!'

A flicker of confusion passed over Eric's face as they looked eye-to-eye. The new Barbarian glared at their one-time Cavalier with a burning hatred. Eric was a coward and a traitor. Hank was shaking with anger. How dare this piece of filth demand the Bow. It was his, it would always be his!

A memory of the Stone Dragon reappeared, and this time Hank welcomed it. He could remember how he had pictured Eric's face with a nice, shiny black eye, to make him pay for what he'd done, pay for leaving them unprotected. Now as they faced each other, it seemed that his wish had come true. Hank looked at the bruise across Eric's temple with a mix of pleasure and contempt. It served him right. Nothing else mattered now he held the Bow again. He would crush anyone who tried to take it from him!

Then, dimly, he heard Dungeonmaster's words: _Trust in friendship_. A tiny voice of sanity in the back of his mind told him this was wrong, this was all wrong. He had to protect his friends, but he couldn't even pull an arrow.

His hand began to shake. Dungeonmaster's words were enough to help him regain control. Deep down, Hank knew that he couldn't help the others this time. The Bow belonged to someone else. And nothing would ever hurt him as much as that bitter realisation. He raised the weapon very slowly, every inch an effort of will, and held it out.

Eric lifted the Bow out of Hanks hand.

Everything seemed to slot back into focus. Hank looked around, free from the Bow's power. The others were surrounded, Presto had fallen beside Sheila and Bobby, their weapons held close as the Dark Elves approached. Diana was trapped against a wall, desperately kicking the Minions that came close enough.

Even more Elves were advancing towards him, their swords glittering. The Warlock had risen from the floor, assisted by two Elves.

Eric took a slow step back, and was looking at the Bow with a glazed, far-away expression.

Hank grabbed the Club once more and took a swing at the advancing Minions, knocking some swords away, but this wouldn't last long. There were far too many and the Warlock was pushing his way through, a furious gleam in his eyes.

 _Trust in friendship._ It was all they had left.

'Eric!' shouted Hank, 'Eric, help us!'

* * *

 

All the pain and worry was swept away the instant Eric took the Bow. Suddenly he was filled with life and power again. And with that came anger, and a desire for revenge that smothered any other emotion. The Bow was in his hand, now, right now. It was waiting. It wanted him to use it. It was his.

Hank's voice was far off and faint 'Eric, help us!'

Eric took a step back, breathless panic rising in his chest at Hank's voice. They needed him. He was the wielder of the Bow now. It was his to use.

The old fears were back. How could he control it? How could he possibly save them all? He could never be the hero Hank was. He just kept on letting them down. How many times had they abandoned a portal just to help him? And he couldn't even keep watch at night without getting into trouble.

That terrible, dark voice rang through his mind: the voice of Venger's Master.

 _\- You caused this to happen. You alone summoned me here. Your friends are doomed to remain in this Realm as long as you stay with them. They don't need you. You hold them back. Together you will never get home. They will leave you here, trapped forever. It is their only way home. You are mine._ –

The words hurt to hear and Eric wavered, caught between running and fighting. He desperately wanted to run, and be free from the responsibility of the Bow. He would only make a fool of himself, after all.

But as he paused, a new thought forced its way to the front of his mind.

Venger's Master had been wrong. They hadn't left him, they had come to help him and had even refused the Warlock's offer of an instant portal. _They hadn't left him._

He looked up. Hank had been grabbed by the Minions and was being dragged towards the Warlock. Diana had been caught too. Uni was already being tied up, and Bobby was getting ready to charge forward to get her, in spite of the large number of Elves that stood in his way. Presto and Sheila were lying on the floor, Dark Elves pinning them down.

Eric suddenly remembered Dungeonmaster's words: _Trust in yourselves and in your friendship. That is the only advice I can give._

They had risked everything to help him. Hank had given him the Bow. He had to help, and he had to succeed. There was no one else left.

A rush of determination passed through him. He reached across to pull an arrow, and felt his arms and shoulders shake with the strain. Gritting his teeth, he pulled harder, desperate to control the Bow in spite of everything.

For a few seconds he thought he wouldn't make it. He was going to fail, again. They had lost.

 _NO!_ he thought desperately, he had to pull that arrow. _This is still my Bow._ Somewhere deep inside he found a reserve of willpower he never knew he had.

Slowly, a red arrow formed in his hand. His whole body was filled with the urge to release the fledging arrow, to let it fly and be rid of it. But he pulled it back further, his arms trembling with the effort, and the arrow grew. Somehow he managed to concentrate on what he wanted the arrow to do, and aimed it directly at Hank. Eric saw Hank's eyes widened in fear as he let the blazing red arrow go.

There was a low roar, the arrow splitting into a number of baby arrows as it flew, one for each Dark Elf. The Minions were forced away from the new Barbarian, each one knocked down by a shard of red light. They began to get shorter, their squeals increasing in pitch as they shrank. A few seconds later the room was filled with faint popping sounds as the Dark Elves vanished.

Hank was standing, looking around him in surprise, no Minion within five feet of him.

Eric breathed a sigh of relief, a wonderful, light feeling spreading through him. He had done it. It had worked.

Near to the altar, he saw the Warlock pause, a look of surprise on his face. The new Ranger gave a grim smile. He had done it once, he could do it again. This wasn't finished.

Eric reached across the Bow again, the second arrow more difficult to hold than the first. He aimed it at Dark Elves holding the other kids. The Minions didn't wait for him to fire. They backed away, then turned and ran for the door as Eric loosed the arrow after them. The Dark Elves were all retreating, letting his friends go.

Finally, Eric pulled a third arrow, his body aching with the effort. He knew that he didn't have the strength to pull another one. He looked at the Warlock as he stood alone, backed up against the far wall, and felt a sudden urge for revenge, to make the Warlock pay for the pain and humiliation.

But there was only one thing that could help his friends: The Conduit.

He had eventually figured it out during those long, lonely hours of waiting. At the time, he had hoped the power of an arrow and the Conduit combined would send them home. But the instant he'd pulled the first arrow, he'd realised he simply wasn't strong enough.

Ignoring the others, Eric walked forward, his arms hurting more than they had when he'd been held against the wall, the strain of holding the arrow increasing all the time. He would have to be quick, his strength of purpose wouldn't be much help when his arms gave way. He walked up to the altar and kicked it over, the candles and incense falling to the ground, as did the Conduit.

Eric looked into the glowing purple centre of the Crystal. The magic of the Wish Imp was still working within them all, and magic could be channelled through the Conduit. It was the Conduit of Transference, after all. It had the power to do almost anything. It could undo that stupid wish, and put the Bow back the way to was supposed to be. All it needed was a source of energy, a really, really big source.

He pulled harder on the Bow, making the arrow grow larger and ignoring the burning ache in his arms. He concentrated on what he wanted, trying not to be distracted.

The Warlock screamed as he realised what Eric was about to do, shouting for his Minions to return, and cursing them when they didn't.

Eric stood above the crystal on the floor, and pointed the giant arrow straight down. The muscles in his arms hurt so much he though he would let the arrow fly too soon. The vision had to be clear in his mind. He had to control the Bow.

The image of what he wanted was suddenly perfect.

'Try this!' he shouted and released the arrow.

The Conduit sucked it in greedily. Slowly the crystal turned from purple to red, then from red to yellow. It began to shake, and the vibrations spread round the room. The others staggered but kept standing. Eric let the Bow fall to the floor and he dropped to his knees, unable to look away.

Suddenly, the room was consumed with a blinding flash of light.

Eric was never sure how long the light lasted, maybe microseconds, maybe hours. He heard nothing, he saw nothing but pure white. Then, as suddenly as the light had appeared, it was gone.

He was still on his knees, in the tower room, and the air was filled with sweet-smelling smoke. The Conduit was in front of him, glowing a faint purple. He reached for the Bow, but it had gone. Instead, his hand touched the Shield. He looked down to see his trusty chainmail and breastplate.

There was movement close by, as the others were looking around too. Presto had his robes and Hat back, Bobby had his Club, Diana was the Acrobat again, Sheila had her Cloak and Hank was in his Ranger's clothes, holding his usual, gold-coloured Bow. The Cavalier gave a sigh of relief.

Over by the back wall, where the Warlock had once stood, were a few scraps of charred, blue robe and a pair of black boots. Uni trotted up and prodded the boots with her horn.

Eric tried to stand, but as soon as he was vertical, his knees gave way again and he was back on the ground. Presto and Hank rushed to his side.

'Way to go, Eric!' said Presto.

He tried to smile, but his head was spinning and everything kept sliding in and out of focus.

'Th…Thanks, you were…great too.'

'Uh, guys, I think we should save the praising for later' said Diana, pointing to the walls. More dust was pouring out, and bits of stone. A large chunk of ceiling crashed down close by.

'Let's get out of here,' shouted Hank. He reached down and pulled Eric to his feet. 'Let's go, Cavalier!'

They stumbled out, Hank and Presto guiding him along as they dodged the falling masonry. His legs didn't feel like they belonged to him any more, and he could barely focus on where he was going. He saw steps and corridors and doors then suddenly he was outside once more. There was a deafening crash behind him, and they were surrounded by billowing dust as the castle collapsed.

Hank and Presto dragged him onwards, not letting his pause, even when he begged them too.

When they finally stopped running, everyone was panting heavily. Looking back, Eric saw a large pile of rubble where the castle had once stood, a huge cloud of grey dust drifting up and over the valley beneath them.

The Cavalier pulled sluggishly away from Hank and Presto, and sat down with a whump.

'I'm not going any further. I don't care if we're being chased by Minions from Hell, I can't move.' He sat crumpled on the ground and let his head tilt back to look up at the sky. 'How I hate this stupid world.'

'It's nice to have you back again, Eric,' said Diana with a smirk.

'Hey, you're still bleeding,' said Sheila. Eric looked down at his arm in surprise, a dark red stain visible even through his mail. It didn't feel that sore, but then he could barely feel anything at the moment. 'Let me have a look,' she said.

'As long as we don't have to move again for a while,' replied Eric, slowly removing his breastplate and shirt. Grimacing, he pulled his clothes over his head. His shoulders were stiff and sore, and his arms felt like lead.

'I feel like I've been wrestling Tiamat,' he said sullenly. 'Ouch, be careful!' he added as Sheila knelt and examined the cut. He saw Bobby staring at the other bruises on his body, and blushed.

'You look like you were wrestling Tiamat, too,' said Diana. 'And you lost.'

'Uh. Very funny.'

'I think it needs stitches,' said Sheila, 'I'll have to bandage it.'

She looked at Presto, who rummaged around in the Hat and pulled out a roll of gauze and a large, green handkerchief. He handed it to Sheila in silence, and she covered the cut with the handkerchief and started to tie it in place with the gauze.

Eric squirmed uncomfortably as the Thief tended his arm, but the pain from his cut wasn't the problem. The others were, well, different. There was something in their attitudes that he didn't recognize. Bobby was now scowling at him fiercely, swinging his Club back and forth, Presto was quietly looking at the ground and Diana stared off into space, her face emotionless. Hank stood back from the group, a slight frown on his face, not looking angry, just hurt or disapproving. Not even Sheila would look him in the eye.

'Say, you guys really had me worried there for a minute,' said Eric, unsure what else to say. 'But I knew you'd come.'

He saw the others exchanging glances that he didn't understand.

'What happened?' asked Sheila. She reached up to touch the huge bruise on the Cavalier's face, but he pulled away.

'I don't remember much. I was just about to waken Diana when I saw something moving. I thought the Imp had come back but, well, it hadn't.' He stopped, having difficultly with the next sentence. Apologies were not his strong point, but he had really messed things up this time. 'I know what you're gonna say, that I should have woken you guys before going to look, but I didn't think the Imp would be any trouble. I'm sorry I messed up another chance to get home.'

The others exchanged strange looks again.

'You mean, you didn't leave us deliberately?' asked Sheila finally, tying the end of the bandage unpleasantly tight. 'You didn't go off on your own?'

'Are you nuts!' said Eric, 'In the middle of the night? What kind of an idiot do you think I am?' The others remained silent, and this time Eric got the definite feeling that he was missing out on something. He looked round the group. 'Say, what happened to you guys anyway?'

'We had a little trouble,' said Sheila.

'We had a lot of trouble,' corrected Presto, 'A Stone Dragon decided to have us for breakfast.'

'What happened?' the Cavalier asked.

'We got the better of it,' said Presto, 'Eventually.'

'No thanks to you,' muttered Bobby, crossing his arms. The Barbarian narrowed his eyes and glared at the Cavalier.

There was a distinctly uncomfortable pause, as Presto, Sheila and Diana all looked at Hank. Uni lowered her head and gave a subdued whine.

'We couldn't find you,' said Hank slowly. 'We thought… Well, we thought you'd abandoned us and gone home on your own.'

Eric had a cold, sick feeling, with the words of Venger's Master suddenly loud in his mind. Even the Warlock had doubted he friends would come to help him. Had he really been such a jerk?

'Gee, guys, you really thought I'd do that?'

'What did you expect, Eric,' snapped Hank suddenly. 'I mean, the way you've been acting recently. You've done everything possible to drive us away. And then you're gone, with no explanation, in the middle of the night. What were we supposed to think?'

Eric shrank back in shame. He couldn't do anything right.

'You insulted us for no reason,' Hank continued bitterly, 'and ignored us when we tried to help. You said you didn't need us. You said you were better off on your own. You said…'

'Good day, my young Pupils.'

They all turned. Eric rubbed his eyes, hoping that the small man in front of him was just an illusion. It didn't work.

'Well, hello Dungeonmaster,' he said caustically. 'And just when I thought I couldn't feel any worse. What do you have to say for yourself this time?''

The old man smiled sadly.

'You have done well, Cavalier.'

'You can save the praise, Your Shortness,' he said, pointing a finger in Dungeonmaster's face. They looked at each other, but it was Eric that turned away first. He grabbed his chainmail and started to pull it back on, carefully.

The Dungeonmaster looked at the others.

'All of you have done well. The Warlock will not trouble these lands again for a very long time. You are all to be congratulated on your courage, and your cleverness.'

The old man looked at their expressions of confusion in surprise. He turned to Eric.

'Have you not explained?'

The Cavalier waved a hand carelessly.

'You explain,' he said. 'I need a rest.'

He lay back onto the grass, not bothering to push the annoying little unicorn away when she flopped down beside him.

'Explain, Dungeonmaster?' said Bobby, 'What's there to explain?'

'Well, I want to know what that Crystal was,' said Diana.

'And why did the Warlock need Eric?' asked Presto.

'And what happened to my Bow?' added Hank, still looking angrily at the Cavalier.

Dungeonmaster seemed pleased at the opportunity to explain.

'The Crystal was from the Dragon's Graveyard,' he told them. 'It had the ability to transfer magical energy from one source to another. The Warlock used it to combine his own, evil magic with that of the Bow, to make it a more powerful weapon.'

'And Eric?' asked Sheila.

'The source of the Crystal's power to transform was the Cavalier,' explained Dungeonmaster patiently. 'While he was the Ranger, the Bow was his. The Crystal took his life force to power the transformation. The Bow absorbed the Warlock's considerable magic to become the most powerful weapon in the Realm. But with great power comes great responsibility, and great temptation.'

'The Warlock made my Bow the strongest weapon in the Realm?' said Hank. 'So how did we defeat him?'

'The Warlock failed to recognise his own limits,' replied Dungeonmaster. 'He became dangerously overconfident and arrogant, unable to foresee the possibility that anyone could stand against him. That was his weakness. Why else would the Warlock have kept Venger as a slave? And why else would he have listened to Venger's advice?'

'What about Venger?' asked Sheila, 'What was he up to?'

'He recognised what the Warlock could not, that the Bow was affecting his mind, and tried to use it to his own advantage.' Dungeonmaster gave a little smirk. 'He knew he would not be able to break free on his own. He contrived to lure you all to the Warlock's Castle, in the hope you would free him.'

'But how did Eric know what to do?' asked Hank, giving the Cavalier the briefest glance.

'That is simple, Ranger. He was linked to the Bow through the Warlock's spell. While Venger was a slave and the Bow was in the hands of the Warlock, the Cavalier was powerless, but as soon as Venger was free…'

'Venger went after the Bow himself!' said Diana triumphantly.

'There was no chance that you could win if Venger fought by the Warlock's side. But once free, he would not be trapped again and he turned on his former master. Yet he did not know that he could not fire the Bow.'

'So how did we get back to normal?' asked Presto.

Dungeonmaster smiled once more.

'You have your Cavalier to thank for that. He used the Crystal to undo Zilzad's wish and change you back. And I must say I was surprised he managed it.'

'But what about the Warlock?'

Dungeonmaster showed no signs that he had tired of explaining.

'When the Cavalier changed you back, the evil magic in the Bow was transferred back at the Warlock, banishing him from this Plane.'

'So Eric saved the day?' said Bobby in surprise, and sniggered at the indignant look that immediately clouded the Cavalier's face. Then Eric shrugged.

'Don't say to like it's never happened before!'

'I am sorry, my young pupils,' said Dungeonmaster. 'The portal in the Lightning Forest closed when the Warlock was banished. But there may be another portal, across the Land of Desolation. It will take many days journey.'

Dungeonmaster looked gravely at the Cavalier and added:

'And there is time enough to tell your companions the truth about Venger's Master. Then his words will have no more power over you.'

Eric sat bolt upright, sending Uni scampering away to Bobby. Fear flooded through the Cavalier once more.

'How did you know?' he whispered.

'Evil is evil, Cavalier. It will win at any cost. I warned you against looking for good reason. And, I think your friends deserve an explanation. Perhaps then they will understand.'

'I really believed what he said, Dungeonmaster,' Eric said quietly, looking down to the ground. 'I thought I was helping them. They should have gone home. I always get in the way.'

'That is not true, Cavalier,' said the Dungeonmaster with a smile. 'Unity is the strongest weapon you have. Never, ever forget that!'

Eric turned to the others, who were staring at him as if he had suddenly grown another head, a collective look that they reserved for times when he'd done something inexplicably dumb.

'Tell me you didn't look at Venger's Master,' said Diana. When Eric just shrugged back at her she added:

'Of all the stupid things to do, Eric!'

'I didn't mean to. It just, sorta, happened.'

'How _did_ you know?' asked Hank, looking back to the place where their guide had been. 'He's gone!'

The surprise disappearance of the Dungeonmaster didn't distract the others for more than a few seconds. They looked back at Eric expectantly. A heavy, sinking feeling hit him, the identical feeling he got every time a teacher had announced a surprise test. There was no way of getting out of this.

Hank was staring at him, the anger so obvious before Dungeonmaster's arrival replaced with a look of genuine concern.

'Tell us then, Eric,' prompted Sheila. 'Venger's Master?'

'Oh, all right then,' he said with a huff. 'But can we have some food first? I haven't eaten since yesterday.'

'You can talk and eat at the same time,' said Presto, pulling off his Hat.

'Hat of power, Hat of magic, we need food that is fantastic!'

The Hat was obviously pleased to be back with Presto, and had decided to be cooperative twice in a row. Before them appeared a wonderful, three-course meal, including a huge plateful of garlic bread, three different kinds of pizza, a large plate of well-cooked cabbage (presumably for Uni), a tub of chocolate ice cream and was complimented by a six bottles of what Eric thought was beer, but was actually warm vinegar.

He looked round at his friends, and smiled. They had come to help him, even when they thought he'd abandoned them. Venger's Master was wrong. How could he be so dumb? He should have trusted them long before now, he should have told them sooner. They were the only people he could trust in this crazy place.

Eric took a big mouthful of pepperoni pizza then a quick swig of from the bottle. This was not going to be easy. He took a deep breath and said slowly:

'Well, it was like this…' he said.

* * *

 

The End

 

 

_What will the Young Ones find in the Plains of Desolation? Find out in 'The Temple of Love' !_

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To follow...


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